Vital Signs
by inspired.by.them
Summary: Ana is a caring, beloved nurse at Saint Joseph's hospital. She loves her patients like family and wouldn't trade her job for the world; however, one day changes her life forever. What happens when Ana is the nurse for Christian Grey? What kind of love will she develop for this man?
1. Chapter 1

The day had been unusually quiet. As Ana wandered around from room to room, checking on each patient on her floor, she was surprised to see that there had been no complaints today. Her elderly patients had - for once - eaten and taken a bath without much of a fuss, her seriously injured patients were managing their pain without asking for a higher dosage, and the emergency ward had been abnormally quiet.

Being the largest trauma ward in all of Seattle, it was unheard of to not have any people rushing through those double doors - either from a burn, gunshot, or car accident. Ana decided to be thankful for the tranquility of the hospital - not because her job was easier today, but hundreds of people had stayed out of harms way.

Carla - Ana's mother - always wondered why Ana would want to work in a trauma unit. There are deaths everyday and Ana had always been so sensitive and grew easily attached to people. Her mother feared that the death of dozens of people each day would wear down on Ana, which it did. It ripped Ana's heart apart to see people suffer, but with each survivor a little piece grew back.

The happiness a person feels from seeing someone pull through a serious injury is worth all the hurt of seeing the life slip away from someone's eyes.

Ana was so engrossed into her own thoughts, that she didn't even notice she was just standing in the middle of the hallway. She shook her head, pulling herself out of her inner ramblings. She checked on all her patients once again, then made her way down to her station. She turned on her desktop, filling in each of her patients' daily chart.

Nothing had changed from yesterday, except Mr. Smith was making much better urine today. It looked like his kidney's were getting stronger, but no matter how much progress he made it was still highly likely that he would need a transplant. Ana's heart sunk as she thought of his position on the waiting list. She would never admit it to him, but it didn't look as though he would be getting a kidney anytime soon.

She exited out of Mr. Smith's chart after filling in the new information, then pulled a book out of her desk to do a little reading. She would need to check on her patients again in an hour - or sooner if they called for her - but an hour was plenty of time for Ana to catch up on her reading. After she had joined Saint Joseph's hospital staff, her care-free life had disintegrated. She had no time to read, jog, shop, or even eat. Either she was too busy or too tired, but Ana didn't mind. Of course sometimes it was a bummer, but her job filled her with pleasure and joy. She loved each of her patients like family, so giving up a part of her personal time was no problem.

Thirty minutes later, Ana was in the middle of a nail-biting scene in her book. She clutched to the pages, completely memorized by the words on the pages, losing herself in the story. Just as one of the characters was about to announce his love for the female protagonist, the emergency siren rang, the double doors bursting open.

Ana jumped, her heart racing from the loud shock. She closed her book, immediately getting up to see what was wrong. Even though Ana was just an RN and never actually helped with the patients when they entered the trauma ward, she usually took over and became their primary care-giver once their vital signs were stable.

She saw Dr. Grace-Trevalyn racing down the hallway alongside the gurney. Dr. Grace was the head of the pediatrics ward, which confused Ana. Why was she in the trauma center?

The patient must have been a child.

Ana moved from her station, trying to catch a glimpse of the victim as they passed by her. She saw Dr. Grace's face as they raced passed her. Her usually pristine hair was falling out of her hair-tie, the loose strands clinging to her forehead were there were numerous beads of sweat gathering. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her skin completely ashen and devoid of any color.

Ana gasped - Dr. Grace looked horrible. Who was the victim to her? She knew that Dr. Grace was a very loving woman, but she had never seen her cry over one of the children that came into the hospital.

As their forms grew further and further, Ana caught a glimpse of the person lying on the stretcher. To her surprise, he was a grown man. His body was covered in open wounds, making her stomach roil. The gashes were large and angry, blood leaking profusely from each wound. Her jaw dropped. The only time Ana had seen someone look worse than this man was when she had taken care of a burn victim.

From the sight of the poor man, it didn't look like he would pull through, especially from the amount of blood he was losing.

As she took in the sight of the man one last time as they turned the corner, Ana almost wanted to cry too.

* * *

Three hours later, Ana couldn't get the sight of that man out of her head. She bit her lip as she thought of whether or not he survived. She kept imagining Grace's face and the complete look of anguish that was present. She knew that man must have been important to Grace - her husband perhaps?

Or her son?

Ana's stomach dropped as her heart filled with anxiety. She had only conversed with Grace a couple times, considering they worked on completely different floors, but she knew how great of a woman she was. She couldn't bear the thought of her going through such a traumatic experience.

Ana closed her book, giving up on even trying to read. She had been on the same spot for the past three hours - she was definitely not going to get any further in the story. She got up from her station, getting ready to make another round on her floor. It was around three A.M, so many of her patients were sleep; however, she routinely checked on them, just to make sure they were okay.

Although she did this everyday, Ana knew she was searching for something more than just the safety of her patients. She was looking for an answer to the question that plagued her mind for over three hours.

She needed to know if that man was okay.

There was something about him that just drew her to him. Of course it was due to Grace's relation to him, but also there was something else she couldn't quite put her hand on.

She checked on each of her patients - who were all resting peacefully - then made her way around to the other side of her floor. The hallway she was on now was primarily Kate's section.

Kate was her best friend, whom not surprisingly, she met while working at Saint Joseph's. The first day they met, they immediately clicked. It must be true about opposites attracting, because Kate was the polar opposite of Ana. While Ana was meek and semi-prudish, Kate was vulgar and intrusive.

Which made Ana love her even more.

However, the patients didn't share that same love for Kate. Ana wondered why Kate would work at a job where she had to deal with people 24/7, considering the fact that Kate _hated _people - especially the elderly. There were many days where Ana's prime amusement came from the loud arguments between Kate and her patients that she could hear all the way from her station.

As Ana passed into Kate's territory, she peeked through each of the rooms, trying to see if that mysterious man had survived in order to be placed permanently into a room.

As she was glancing into a room, she heard a door slam. She jumped, turning around to see where the noise was coming from. Her favorite person was stomping towards her.

"What's wrong, babe?" Ana asked, taking in Kate's furious gaze.

"You know, I don't even know why I fucking try with people," Kate grumbled, linking Ana's arm in hers.

They strolled along the hallway, Ana peering into each room they passed.

"Some injured bastard who's been here for two fucking hours - tops - has already decided to mouth off. It's like, I'm spending my precious time cleaning up your shit and this is how you repay me? I'm a trust-fund baby, I could easily be spending my time getting plowed by Ricardo in Brazil, or doing body shots off of Pierre in France," Kate screeched, ranting as always.

"Wait, wait, wait. Whats the name of your patient?"

"I'm emptying my heart out to you, and all you care about is the patient?" said Kate, appalled.

Ana rolled her eyes. "Kate!"

"Okay, okay, fine. His name is Christian Grey. He's filthy fucking rich. I would gladly marry him, then divorce him for his money, but he's a prick so I don't see that happening."

"Grey? Oh." Ana's heart sank.

She thought she might have been talking about Dr. Trevalyn's husband/son. It must have been another patient that was recently brought in.

"Who were you expecting?" Kate asked, her eyebrow raised.

"No one."

Kate pursed her lips, but didn't question any further. She stopped abruptly, then turned towards Ana, placing her head in her hands.

"My dearest, most beautiful Ana," Kate started.

Ana sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, what do you want now?"

"Could you please - pretty, pretty please - perhaps, maybe, quite possibly, take on this scumbag, dickhead, asshole patient that I have? I don't think I can last two days with him."

Ana bit her lip, not sure what to say. She was already taking care of twelve patients - which was extreme - but she knew that that poor man would suffer even more if Kate was his caregiver, so she decided to give in.

Damn her for having such a good heart.

"Alright, fine," Ana agreed.

Kate jumped up, squealing in delight.

"And this is why you're my best friend," she declared.

* * *

It was now five A.M and soon Ana's shift would be over. Her eyes drooped with exhaustion, but she forced herself to make another round on her floor - including her new patient on Kate's floor - before she clocked out for the day. As soon as she got home she was sleeping for a _long, long _time.

Her usual patients were doing good, some had even started getting up for the day. She told them each goodbye and promised to see them soon. As she made her way to Kate's floor, her heart started to race. She didn't know what exactly she would encounter by taking on this new patient. Of course Kate was never good with anyone, but this Grey guy was rich. Ana hated stereotypes, but she knew rich people were a lot harder to deal with than middle class or poor people.

She decided to suck it up and just make herself known that she would be his new nurse - along with Rosa who took over once Ana's shift was over.

She quietly entered the man's room, not wanting to disturb him just in case he was asleep. However, as she entered, her stomach dropped.

It was the mystery man, the one with the severe wounds. Her heart ached as she took in his decrepit form. His body looked so weak and vulnerable that she couldn't fathom how he could have been rude to Kate in such a state.

As she grew closer to his bedside, she realized that he was awake. He tossed and turned, groaning with each movement. He clutched onto the bedside rails, his breathing shallow and rough.

"Mr. Grey? Stay still, moving is going to make the pain worse," Ana said soothingly, as to not frighten him.

He turned his head in her direction, his face contorted in pain.

"Who are you?" He gritted out harshly.

"I'm Ana, I'm going to be your nurse now. Kate was reassigned to another patient," she explained. "If you would like, I could give you a slightly higher dosage. On your chart it says you're taking morphine, so the maximum I can give you is 15mg."

"15mg? What the fuck is that going to do?" He mumbled, clutching the bed-rails even harder.

"Take away your pain, Sir," she said, ignoring his vulgar response. "It sounds like a small dosage, but Morphine is quite strong."

She moved to the medicine cabinet and took out her key from within the pocket of her scrubs. She placed the key in the medicine cabinet, then extracted a vile of morphine. She took the morphine and carried it over to his bedside, taking the syringe connected to his IV and temporarily disconnecting it. She stuck the syringe into the vile, then carefully administered the medicine. She took out the syringe, then placed it back into his IV."How do you feel now?" Ana asked, genuinely concerned.

Christian eyed her cautiously, slowly spitting out, "Okay."

"Good," she smiled. She held up the vile, "I'll write this down on your chart so Rosa knows about your new dosage."

Ana placed the vile back into the medicine cabinet and started to make her way out of the room.

"Wait," he called. "I thought you were my nurse. Where are you going?" He asked.

"I am, but my shift is almost over. Rosa takes over during the mornings," Ana explained.

"Oh.. Will you becoming back tonight?" Christian asked, his voice slurring as the morphine started to kick in.

"Of course," Ana smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

**_Welcome to my new story._**

**_-XoXo_**

**_Edit: Jesus H. Christ. I came back to look over some details of my story and didn't realize how many errors I had lol. I rarely proofread (bad habit) so if you guys ever notice anything that doesn't make sense, please let me know. It's very helpful!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this update took so long. I've been having problems in my personal life, but I should have more time to update now. For those of you who read my other story, I will be updating that soon too.**

* * *

The vibration from her pager was what woke her up. She groaned, not even having enough strength to point her head in the sound's direction. She knew it was her job - no one used pagers anymore except for workplaces.

As the buzzing continued, she debated whether to let it ring and fall back into a peaceful slumber, or to drag her ass out of bed and see what they needed from her.

Is sleep worth the loss of your job? To Ana, it was not.

She slithered her body across the bed, too tired to physically get up. She continued to slide, slowly moving her body off of the bed and onto the cold, hardwood floor.

She paused, her front facing the ceiling, her eyes closed and her body weak with exhaustion. Was it even worth getting up? Was something so serious that Rosa couldn't even handle it on her own? Her stomach dropped - did one of her patients die? She groaned aloud again, depressed about her sleep being broken and even more depressed over the thought that she could possibly be losing another person important to her.

She crawled towards her coat, which hung on the back of her bedroom door. Barely lifting her arm, she fumbled around in her coat pocket until she found the source of the noise.

She squinted against the harsh, fluorescent light the pager gave off, and read the message that appeared on the screen.

_Patient has gone crazy, need you ASAP! Call back 4536537909_

_-Rosa_

Idly, Ana wondered why Rosa hadn't just called in the first place if she wanted to talk to her on the phone. Ana also mulled over which patient could possibly be going crazy. She knew it had to be an elderly - many of them were easily aggravated and Ana was one of the only people who could deal with them. For some reason, she had an endless supply of patience and a nurturing disposition.

Reaching her arm back up into her coat pocket, Ana fumbled around for her cell phone. As she found it, once again squinting due to the harsh light, she entered the number shown on her beeper.

The tone dialed once before Rosa picked up. Jeez, it must be serious.

"Ana?!" Said Rosa, her voice high with anxiety and irritation.

"Yes?" Ana said politely, grimacing at how hoarse and dead her voice sounded.

"Thank God I got ahold of you! This man who has recently been admitted is going bat-shit crazy."

Ana perked up. Was she talking about _the _man? The strange man from last night?

Christian Grey..

"The billionaire? With all the wounds?" Ana asked.

"Yes! He's throwing a fit about me being his nurse. I think he might be a little delirious, he's saying that he's only supposed to have one specific nurse - which happens to be you."

Ana sighed. Why, oh why, did the crazies always become attached to her? There must be something in her blood that just invites the mentally unstable.

"And there's no possible way you can handle this on your own?" Ana inquired, still not wanting to leave her comfy spot on the floor.

"I hate to bother you Ana, but this man is insistent. He won't let anyone touch him, not even the doctors," Rosa admitted.

Ana rubbed her eyes, the exhaustion slowly creeping back into her body. There was no other choice, was there? He was her patient and she had a responsibility to make sure he received proper care.

"Alright, I'm coming in now."

* * *

She could hear the yelling all the way from her station. Ana set her tote bag on to her desk and quickly shuffled towards Mr. Grey's room. Even though she was exhausted, dark circles under her eyes and her skin pale and clammy, she was frantic to see what could possibly be wrong with her newest patient.

Was he having a bad reaction to her newly prescribed dosage? Morphine was a strong drug and some people have a low tolerance for medication, perhaps he's gone delirious. She rushed to his room, curiosity and anxiety urging her forward. The fact that Dr. Grace has some sort of connection to the man peaked her interest, but there was also something about him that drew her to him.

"Don't touch me!" He seethed, his eyes darting from doctor to doctor. His speech was slurred and his body looked weak with exhaustion and rage.

"Mr. Grey, we have to redress your wounds. Please cooperate with Rosa, it's for your health," Dr. Singe pleaded.

"If any of you bring your filthy hands near me, I swear to God it will be the end of your careers," he growled, his eyes wild and his skin red.

Ana grimaced, were all rich people this self-entitled and belligerent? She wouldn't know, she has been middle class her whole life. She hesitantly crossed the threshold of his room, making sure not to startle him. The last thing they needed was to agitate him any further.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey. How are you feeling?" Ana asked softly, making sure to stay a few feet away from his bed. She would only come near if it was okay with him.

He looked at her, his eyes calming slightly. He recognized her.

"These people are harassing me," he mumbled, subdued. "I am fine, I don't need them touching me."

Ana pursued her lips. "Well, Mr. Grey you have had severe wounds that must be taken care of in the most efficient way possible. We do not want them to become infected, that could lead to your condition worsening."

Ana pulled his chart from the wall next to his bedside, reading to him the damage he has obtained.

"You've had over ten deep abrasions - meaning your lacerations have went through all the layers of your skin, two of them having reached the muscle. We must keep these clean and dry in order for them to heal properly. If not, the wounds may get infected leading to more severe scarring and a higher risk for acquiring staph infection," Ana finished with a flourish. She put his chart under her arm, looking at him with concern. Now that he knew the risk he was putting himself at, hopefully Mr. Grey would get the message that he needs to cooperate.

He looked at her sheepishly, a small part of him slightly embarrassed - which for some reason made him more stubborn. His face hardened.

"Fine, but I don't want them touching me," he said, nodding in Dr. Singe and Dr. Jason's direction.

Ana nodded, placing his chart back into its holder. "Of course, Mr. Grey, the nurses redress the wounds anyway. I can do it myself."

Ana shuffled over to the medicine cabinet, pulling out a roll of dressing pads, hydrogen peroxide, q-tips, and Aquaphor ointment. She placed each item onto the cart and wheeled it over to Christian's bedside. After all of that was done, Ana sauntered to the sink, turning on the faucet and squirting some soap into her hands. She placed her hands underneath the stream of water and scrubbed her hands gingerly. Afterwards, she grabbed a pair of latex gloves in her size and put them on.

"No allergies, right?" She asked Christian, Dr. Singe and Jason leaving the room now that Christian was under control.

He shook his head, leaning back into his pillow. He looked tired and forlorn, the adrenaline from his temper tantrum obviously having worn off.

"You have to relax and let us take care of you, Mr. Grey. Your body has been put through major trauma and the added stress from your outbursts is making it worse," Ana scolded, undoing the ties of his hospital gown.

Christian grabbed her wrist, halting her movements. Ana gasped, shocked.

"Are you okay, Mr. Grey?" She asked hesitantly.

"I.. I can do it myself," he demanded, taking off his gown, the fabric sliding off of his arms.

Ana reached to the side, sliding the privacy curtain around Christian's bed. Even though he had a single room and the door was closed, the nurses at St. Joseph's had a habit of barging in without knocking.

"Okay, I have to take off your dressing. Are you okay with that?" Ana asked, slightly nervous. She was still confused by his sudden, aggressive movement. She didn't want a second occurrence.

"Is this really necessary?" He growled, "I'm fine, if they must be taken care of then I am able to change it myself."

Ana rolled her eyes. "Mr. Grey, your skin has almost been completely flayed off. You have about one and a half layers left, do you honestly think you have the knowledge to properly care for a wound of that magnitude?" She demanded, her patience running thin. Never in her life had she met someone so petulant and bossy.

He scoffed, "How hard can it be? You can do it."

Ana raised an eyebrow, taken aback by Christian's blatant disparage. Ana never gets angry, but there are certain points where the negative emotion takes over her body.

"Fine, have it your way," she mumbled. "If you want to refuse care, then so be it. It is your right as a patient, after all."

She ripped the curtain around, placing it back into its proper position. She ripped off her gloves, wheeling the cart back to the medicine cabinet and placing the dressing and medical supplies back with the others.

Ana stormed out of the room, her blood boiling. She was seething, every inch of her body tingling, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She stomped down the hallway, her mouth pinched into a hard line.

_How dare he belittle me? He doesn't even know me. I've been the only person kind enough to deal with the son of a bitch and this is how I'm treated?_

As she was walking back to her station, she felt her eyes prickling.

Oh no, she groaned.

She tried to subdue them, but soon she felt the warm, angry tears oozing down her face. Ana hated crying, especially when she was angry. She felt as if she was cheating herself, allowing herself to feel weakness when she should be spewing out venom to the person who had caused her to feel this way.

She dashed them away quickly, but they just kept coming. She wondered why she was so affected - it's not as if her patients have never been rude to her before; of course they have, but for some reason the harsh, arrogant manner that Christian had pissed her off to no end.

"What's wrong, Steele?"

Ana jumped, quickly wiping the remainder of her tears away. The only thing she hated more than crying was for people to see her crying.

She turned and was met with Ethan's kind and concerned face. Ethan was the general manager of the trauma ward. He oversaw all of the nurses, medicine, and hospital policies on Ana's floor.

Ana blushed, embarrassed by her manager and close friend seeing her in such a compromising position.

"Uh, nothing.. Lack of sleep... And hormones," Ana said, giggling awkwardly. Hopefully the mention of her lady problems would ward Ethan away. Ana wanted to be left alone at the moment.

Sure enough, Ethan fidgeted, nodding his head uncomfortably. "Oh, got it. Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

Before Ana could even reply, Ethan had scurried away. Despite her sour mood, Ana couldn't help but to laugh. What was it with men and periods?

* * *

Ana decided not to go back home. She was already at the hospital and she needed all the extra money she could get, so she offered to take Rosa's hours.

Ana knew she overworked herself. Compared to the other nurses, she was a workaholic. She had only gotten five hours of sleep, but it wasn't as if she had much of a social life or anything at home waiting for her. Ana wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but the hospital was really the only thing she had left. Of course there were her parents, but she wasn't going to drive an hour a half every weekend. Plus, what twenty-two year old woman wants to hang out with their parents every weekend, anyway?

Ana had Kate, Ethan, and Jose, but even they get busy sometimes. All three of them are social butterflies and have a deep rooted passion for something, even if that something was obsessive shopping (in Kate's case). Ana, however, only had her patients. And she wasn't sure if she felt noble because of her extreme dedication to them, or just pathetic.

A flashing light from her desk pulled Ana out of her pity-party. One of her patients needed assistance. She looked at her monitor and realized it was from Mr. Grey's room. She groaned. A part of her was ready to check what was wrong, while the other, more vindictive part wanted to let him suffer.

Of course there was no cruel bone in Ana's body, so three seconds later she was walking down the hall to see what he needed.

She knocked on his door, then entered a few moments later when she didn't get a response. She crossed the threshold to encounter a red, sweaty, and writhing Christian Grey.

"Mr. Grey, are you alright?" Ana asked, concern kicking in.

He looked up, his eyes completely sunken in and filled with pain.

"I need a higher dosage," he spat out, barely able to speak one sentence.

"Mr. Grey, you are prescribed the maximum dosage I am able to give you. Something must be wrong," she said, the last part more to herself than to him.

She felt Christian's forehead with the back of her hand. It was hot to the touch. Ana quickly rushed over to the drawer by the sink and grabbed the thermometer.

"Turn your head," she commanded.

Slowly - and feebly - Christian obeyed. Ana placed the probe of the thermometer into Christian's ear and about ten seconds later realized he had a fever of 101.

"That's not good," she whispered to herself. "Mr. Grey, I think you may have an infection. I really need to check your wounds," Ana says soothingly.

Despite his highly unpleasant demeanor, Ana was genuinely concerned for his health.

He grumbled a slur of unintelligible remarks, still insisting that he didn't need care.

Ana realized that with Christian almost delirious with fever and completely exhausted, now would be a perfect time to check his wounds. She quickly washed her hands - so quick, Ethan would reprimand her for improper technique - and put on a new pair of gloves.

She made quick work of undoing Christian's gown - this time without protest - and gently removed his bandages. To her chagrin, she realized that his wounds had in fact become infected. Blisters had formed on the small layer of skin he had left, some of them oozing puss.

This is what happens when people decide to be stubborn.

She immediately went to the medicine cabinet, grabbing the supplies from earlier along with a needle, iodine, cleaning pads, and two Motrin tablets for his fever.

"Take this."

Christian followed orders, either due to his pain, or too delirious to know what he was doing. After he had taken the pills, Ana started to clean the angry wounds on his chest. The cleaning pad barely brushed Christian's skin before he panicked.

"Stop," he hissed, mustering every ounce of strength to distance himself from Ana.

"I can't, you have an infection. I must treat it. Now be still," Ana said, pushing his body back onto the bed.

Although Ana was a very patient individual, she was getting fed up with Christian's bullshit.

"No, please," he said, this time the anger that was once in his voice getting replaced with another emotion.

_Fear_?

Ana stopped, examining the sweaty and gaunt face of Christian Grey. This arrogant, rude, abrasive man was.. Scared? Of being touched?

"Mr. Grey, you have nothing to worry about. I have no intentions to hurt you, I am only trying to help. Please relax, it's for your own good," Ana reassured.

All the anger she had towards Christian vanished in that moment. She could tell that he was nothing more than a walking facade. Behind his rough demeanor was a man broken.

He shook his head, his breathing becoming more harsh and erratic. He tried to get up, but was too weak to move. Ana knew that she could continue with her treatment, but touching someone when they couldn't give consent or defend themselves made Ana feel sick to the stomach. She couldn't abuse her authority in that way.

But suddenly, an idea popped into her head.

"Give me your hand," she said.

He looked at her, confused. He didn't move, so Ana took her hand into his and placed the cleaning pad into his grasp. Using his hand to direct the movements, Ana was able to clean off his wounds.

"See, I'm not touching you at all," she reassured.

Christian didn't respond, but he didn't complain either. With this technique, Ana was able to clean and apply the ointment to Christian's wounds. She couldn't drain the blisters like she wanted to, considering she would need her own two hands for that, but at least his infection would be under control. She would alert his doctors that he would be needing antibiotics now for his staph infection.

Ana sauntered back to her station after making it around to all her patients and updating their charts. She slumped into her chair, feeling utterly exhausted and overworked. Her shift was now just starting and she silently cursed herself for taking Rosa's shift also. Right now, all she wanted was to go home and take a nice, long bubble bath. Then, after that was over, she wanted to sink into her bed and sleep for the next three years. Just thinking about it made her want to cry.

She put her head on her desk, allowing her eyes to close. She had nothing to do; all of her patients were fine and she was too tired to read. She vowed that she would just rest her eyes for a couple minutes, but soon she felt the heaviness of sleep overtaking her.

* * *

"You look cute when you drool."

Ana's eyes snapped open, her head flying off her desk. Kate was perched in front of her, blowing a bubble with her gum.

"Oh god, what time is it?" Ana asked frantically, wiping a bead of drool from the side of her mouth.

_I thought she was joking..._

"10:45, hence the reason I'm here," Kate answered, twirling the pink bubblegum around her finger.

Ana jumped up, her heart starting to pound. She had slept for three hours?! Why the hell hadn't anyone woke her up? Even worse, what if something was wrong with her patients?

She ran from her seat, racing down the hallway to peak into everyone's room. To her relief - and surprise - everyone was doing fine. Most were sleep, since it was almost 11 at night, while the others were watching late night tv or keeping themselves preoccupied with drawing or reading.

She frowned. It's not like she wanted them to be in danger or pain, but it was so weird for them to not need her assistance.

"You really need to chill," Kate murmured, catching up to her. "These old geezers aren't going to die from being alone for a couple hours."

Ana sighed. "I know, I'm just used to checking on them regularly."

Kate linked her arm in Ana's, the two of them walking down the hallway.

"How's Mr. Megamillions?" Kate asked, blowing another bubble with her gum.

"Irritating. He is the most stubborn person I've ever met - and also the rudest," Ana answered truthfully. He was extremely hard to deal with, but she still felt a weird attachment to him.

"Word on the street is he's Dr. Trevalyn's kid."

"What?" Ana gasped. That was her original guess, but they look nothing alike and don't even share the same last name.

"Yeah, I looked him up online. Carrick Grey and Grace Trevalyn-Grey are his parents. I would've never known since Grace only goes by Trevalyn around here," Kate divulged.

Ana shook her head, now it all made sense.

"What the hell happened to him?" Ana asked, "All I know is the severity of the injuries."

"I heard it was a motorcycle accident. He was drunk and lost control of his bike and skidded right on the gravel. One of the paramedics said the highway was covered in skin."

Ana shudders, the image of Christian lying battered and broken on the road crosses her mind.

"I feel so bad for Grace," Ana murmurs sadly.

"I don't. He's alive and still an asshole. At least if he would've died he might have left them a huge chunk of money."

Ana rolled her eyes, the two of them still walking absent-mindlessly. They continue to chatter when Ethan interrupts.

"Ana, can I talk to you?" He asks. He looks fidgety.

Ana frowns. "What's wrong?"

"I need to see you in my office."

Ana panics, imagining all the worst possible scenarios. Is Ethan firing her? Is she being sued? Did she accidentally poison one of her patients?

Ana tries to calm herself down as she follows Ethan to his office. Ethan looks nervous and shocked, which causes Ana to become even more uneasy.

As they make their way into Ethan's office, he shuts the door behind them and tells her to take a seat. Ana bites her lip, the suspense of what he has to say is killing her.

He takes a seat behind his desk, which is placed in front of her. He takes a deep breath.

"Christian Grey is offering two-hundred fifty thousand dollars for you to be his round-the-clock, personal nurse."

Ana laughs, the noise escaping on its own. It was more of a bewildered laugh than one filled with humor. She stares at Ethan, waiting for him to tell her he is joking. She knows that Ethan has a strange sense of humor, but this particular joke isn't funny to her.

Ethan continues to stare blankly, no trace of amusement on his face.

"Are you kidding?" Ana asks, her mouth falling open.

"No, he's refusing to accept care from anyone else. He's willing to donate the money to our hospital's research unit," Ethan admits, just as shocked as Ana.

"Why?" Ana asks, not understanding why Christian would be interested in her. Just a couple hours ago he basically insinuated that she was a simpleton.

"I have no idea, maybe it's just because you're a fantastic nurse. Everyone here knows that."

"Well, I guess, but is it worth two-hundred fifty thousand dollars? Is it even legal for us to accept the money?"

"I'm not sure." Ethan brushes a hand through his hair, contemplating. "Technically it's a donation, which we accept from anyone. He wouldn't be paying you directly for the care, so there's no violation of our hospital policy... Meaning it would be completely legal; ethical, however, is a different story."

Ana bites her lip, completely in shock. Christian Grey is willing to pay two-hundred fifty thousand dollars just for her care? Oddly, she felt like a prostitute of some sort.

"Ana," Ethan begins, "We could accomplish so much with this money. Our funding has decreased greatly and we're so close to perfecting our cancer treatment. Of course, it's not the cure, but it would be less harsh on the body."

Ana pursed her lips, realizing that she wasn't being asked for much. She was a nurse - it was her job to take care of people. Would it really be hard to do what she's paid for anyway? Especially considering how much it would help the hospital.

"This is so unethical," Ana groaned, silently acquiescing to be Christian's full-time caregiver. Even though she didn't say yes, Ethan knew from her tone.

He gave her his favorite dimpled smile, making Ana feel less like a prostitute and more like a humanitarian.

"Thanks, Steele."

Ana shook her head, not excited, nor completely disgusted with her decision. For the life of her, she couldn't understand what Christian would want from her. Even worse, she didn't know what the hell she was getting herself into.

**_Enjoy, reviews are appreciated._**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sorry this update took so long. I've been busy with work, but I'm going on vacation soon so hopefully I'll have more time to write!_**

* * *

Christian Grey contemplated how he ever survived without money. He knew he wasn't always rich-especially not when he was a young child-but nothing in the world had any meaning if you didn't have _money. _Money made everything slightly more enjoyable; food tasted better, people dressed nicer, hell, even sex was better.

But what Christian valued the most was the power his money held over people. What Christian makes in an hour and a half had just bought him his own personal nurse.. And allowed him to receive care in the comfort of his own home. He hated the smell of the hospital. The environment. The shitty doctors.

The thing he wanted most was to return to his penthouse and his work. The hospital had been a horrible burden and glaring roadblock that messed up the comfort of Christian's practiced aversion to the world. He threw himself into his work and his whores in order to distract himself from the emptiness he felt everyday, which is exactly why he needed to leave.

The hospital was a confined space of misery and death. There was no entertainment, no smiling faces, no.. Nothing. It was everything Christian felt inside of himself. The silence left him alone with his thoughts and his true feelings… And it drove him insane. On top of that, every person and their mother wanted to lay their hands on him. What happened to personal space and boundaries? Did they not have any? He hated being touched, so much to the point where he would be more content with receiving no care and dying if it came to that.

Yet, one woman made him feel at ease. She wasn't like the other bastards who call themselves medical workers; no, she was a completely different breed. When Christian was underneath her care, he was regarded with patience and understanding - not the demanding and impatient manner the rest of the staff treated him with.

Christian couldn't blame them, though.. He was an asshole. No one wanted to deal with him, not even his own family. (Though they would never admit to that). The real thing that attracted Christian to Ana was not her patience or understanding, but yet her genuine sincerity. When people interacted with Christian, he knew they either were afraid of him or plotting ways to kill him - they just covered it up well. With Ana, it was a different story. She looked at him like he was a person. A person with actual emotions and feelings… A human being. And not just that, but she didn't hate him or fear him. To her, they were on the same level. Neither him nor her being superior to one another.

That fascinated and infuriated Christian at the same time.

Christian was drawn to this strange woman who was not affected by his dominance or his aggression. He could tell that if he were not her patient, she would never listen to any of his orders or even humor his demands. To Christian, this was an exciting and frustrating new territory. All his life women listened to him and obeyed him… Until now.

Christian needed to know why she was different.

* * *

Ana found it hard to breathe. Throughout her twenty-one years of life, she had scarcely traveled; but that didn't mean she was completely culturally deprived. She had visited many areas around the pacific northwest, all which were completely breathtaking. Her mother had even splurged one summer and took them on a family trip to Niagara Falls. On that trip, Ana thought she would never see anything more beautiful than that gust of water shooting down onto the rocks below.

But she was wrong.

As she stood in the middle of Christian Grey's penthouse, she wondered how one man could own something so perfect. Although everything was stark and colorless, the sight in front of her still rendered itself beautiful. Nothing was out of place - in fact, everything was perfectly symmetrical. The floors were polished clean, the walls were adorned with the most intriguing of paintings, and the furniture was one striking shade of white.

Absently, Ana thought how he kept his white couch so clean. Surely, he must never sit on it.

"Ms. Steele?"

Ana turned around, a small, willowy woman standing in the breakfast area. The woman looked at Ana expectantly, as if she were to be given directions.

"Yes, I am Ms. Steele," Ana answered, slightly confused.

The woman smiled, her eyes shining and small lines appearing in the corners of her mouth. She stepped forward, extending her hand to Ana. Ana placed her hand in her's gingerly, comforted by the woman's warm demeanor.

"I am Mrs. Jones, Mr. Grey's housekeeper. He is expecting you… Almost a little impatient, might I add," she looked down, slightly fidgeting.

Ana raised an eyebrow. She hoped Christian had not taken his bad attitude out on the kind woman standing in front of her. How could someone so nice work for a man of his caliber? He was a demanding asshole, it would only make sense for him to fit in with his own kind.

But then Ana realized that no one else would take his bullshit unless they were uncharacteristically nice.

She also realized that she was in the _exact _same position as Mrs. Jones. Ana sighed, hastening a polite goodbye to Mrs. Jones after she had directed her to Mr. Grey's room. Ana's stomach roiled with anticipation and anxiety. Would he be in one of his difficult moods? How long did she need to be his nurse? _Why _had she even agreed to this?

Ana's head filled with thoughts and questions, but she pushed them down. She was here now and she had agreed to be his nurse, so whatever circumstances came with that, she just needed to suck it up and get her job done.

She knocked on the door softly, afraid to wake him up if he were asleep.

"Mr. Grey, may I come in?" She asked quietly.

"That is what you are being paid for," He answered, his tone clipped.

Ana rolled her eyes before entering, already fed up with his attitude and it had only been ten seconds.

She smiled upon entering, noticing that his room had been turned into a makeshift hospital room. He was hooked up to IV's, one normal saline and the other his required dosage of morphine. The TV was turned on, however he was not paying attention to it. The bandages on his chest looked newly changed and he was able to sit up on his own.

"You look much better. How have you been coping?" Ana asked, noting that his cheeks were slightly less pale than they had been the day before.

"Fine," he answered, "except the staff I hired cannot show up on time," he growled.

Ana looked at her watch. She was a minute late. She decided not to answer his bitter statement, instead washing her hands in the adjoining bathroom and placing on a pair of latex gloves that were placed nicely on the countertop.

"They really decked your room out," She called to him, referencing to all the equipment and tools they had set up.

He grunted, staring blankly at the TV screen. She walked back into the room, making her way to his bedside.

"I'm going to take your temperature and pulse."

Everything was normal, which was a relief to Ana. Christian's infection was now under control, which was going to speed up his recovery, which would also speed up the time that Ana could get the _hell _out of there. Christian was like a black hole that sucked the life out of everything and everyone who happened to be around him at the moment. Ana had gotten the suggested eight hours of sleep, but already her energy was starting to fade.

"Everything sounds great, Mr. Grey. You'll be on your way to a full recovery in no time. I'll have to change your bandages in four hours and I'll give you your dose of antibiotics every two hours. When was the last time you took your medicine?" Ana asked, wondering if it was time for another dosage.

Rosa had helped Christian settle into his new environment while Ana went home and packed her stuff in order to be Christian's live-in nurse. Originally, Ana thought that Christian would be staying at the hospital, but after another $250,000, Ethan caved and allowed him to be sent home. Ana wasn't sure if they were crossing some legal or ethical boundaries, but she prayed that they weren't. She was not too fond of the idea of her being a prison wife.

_Why, oh why, did I agree to this? _She berated herself again.

"Twenty minutes ago when the other nurse left," he answered, his face turning into a sneer.

"Great! In an hour and forty minutes I'll be back up to administer your antibiotics. Do you need anything before I leave?" She asked, taking off her gloves and throwing them into the trash.

"Where are you going?" He asked, suddenly sitting up straighter. His eyes, originally lifeless, now seemed to be glowing. Was it anger? Curiosity?

"I was going to unpack my stuff, if that's okay…"

"Gail can do it," he answered dismissively, settling back into the pillows. He turned towards the TV again, his eyes turning back to the dead shade of grey they had been just minutes before.

_Gail?_

"Uh, okay… I'm not sure if she'll know how to organize my stuff they way I would like. I would be more comfortable doing it myself…" Ana trailed off, slightly uncomfortable and irritated. Now he was controlling what she was able to do with her own stuff? Would he be controlling when she's allowed to take a piss next?

"Gail is an excellent organizer, don't worry," he reassured, but his tone was sarcastic and bitter.

Ana sighed, taking a seat into the chair perpendicular to his bed. She turned her eyes to the TV, curious of what he was watching. It was some sort of crime slash science-fiction. There was a man and woman, both who were dressed in slick, black suits and never seemed to smile.

"What's this?" Ana asked, trying to diffuse the tension in the room.

"The X-files," he answered. His tone was not of irritation, but neither was it of pleasantry.

Was that his neutral tone of voice? If so, she could see why he had no friends or significant other.

"I've never heard of it," she whispered, more to herself than to Negative Nancy across from her.

He looked at her, frowning. "You've never heard of the X-files?" He asked, slightly offended.

She giggled, amused at his hurt expression. What was it with sci-fi nerds and their undying love to their favorite tv shows and movies?

"I guess I must be too young," she started, "my mother didn't let me watch adult TV shows until I was 15."

"How old are you?" He asked, his voice actually filled with some sort of emotion.

"Twenty-one."

He snorted. "You're practically jailbait. How can you be a nurse at such a young age?"

"How can you be a billionaire at such a young age?" She countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Touche," he murmured.

They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the strange show that for some reason frightened Ana. She turned away, rolling her eyes at her own silliness.

"So," she started, trying to distract herself from the grotesque scenes on the TV screen, "how'd you get so dinged up?"

Christian's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing. It was so quick that Ana barely noticed it, but it made her feel stupid for asking her question. Had she crossed a boundary?

"Motorcycle accident. Nothing you haven't seen a million times," he answered, his voice taking on the dead tone Ana hated to hear.

"I know, I heard -"

"Then why did you ask?" He snapped, making Ana flinch.

The flailing, monstrous alien on the screen also had a part in her jumpy mood.

"Well, to get it from your point of view," she answered. "You can't always believe what people say. If I heard the story from you, I know it would be the truth."

He looked at her, frowning. "How do you know I wouldn't be lying?" He challenged.

She shrugged. "Since when have _you _cared what people think?

He chuckled. It was so low and so quick, but Ana knew it was a definite expression of mirth. At the sound of it, her eyes widened, she almost gasped in disbelief. Had 'Mr. Spock' _finally _expressed emotion? She wanted to do a victory dance, or at least a celebratory pat on the back.

_I am the best damn nurse, ever._

"Good answer," he responded, his lips pursed. "I wasn't drunk or on any drugs, so if that's what you heard then it's wrong. I also wasn't attempting suicide, so if that's what you heard then it's _definitely _wrong. I was just upset and went too fast. My wheels skidded on the ice," he mumbled, his eyes staring straight at the television screen.

Ana nodded. She also felt guilty for hearing - and believing - both of those rumors that he had mentioned. You couldn't blame her; however, since rich people are the ones with the most substance abuse and emotional problems.

"Wow. I thought rich guys were more into sports cars," she muttered.

"I thought nurses were more into their _own business."_

"Ha! Think again. Gossip and coffee are the only things that keep us running," Ana stated, flipping her hair and nestling back into her chair. She hazarded a glance at the TV screen, relieved once she realized it was on a commercial break.

Christian narrowed his eyes at her, shaking his head slightly. Ana was still engrossed in the TV, intrigued by a new cleaning product being advertised. As Christian continued to study her, he found himself being drawn to her more and more. She was so… Real. And raw. Nothing about her was faked or censored for his comfort. He didn't want to know why she was affected by his demeanor anymore.

He wanted to know _her._

* * *

**_I hope this chapter wasn't boring, it's more of a lead-in into the next chapter. I hope to get chapter 4 up a lot quicker than this one and I hope it has a little bit more action._**

**_Thanks so much for reading._**

**_XxXx_**

**_P.S. excuse any errors I made, I'm way too lazy to proofread. _**


	4. Chapter 4

**_I'm giving myself a tiny pat on the back for getting this chapter up so early. _**

**_Also, I'm not a nurse; so don't expect anything in this story to be accurate haha._**

* * *

Ana moaned as the shower spray hit her sore and tender back. She moved the shower head over her shoulders and neck, lavishing the therapeutic massage it was currently giving her. Her whole body ached, most likely due to the long and torturous hours she had been subjecting herself to. As a nurse, the hours are always long and torturous - but if your patient is Christian Grey, you have to multiply the stress level by a thousand.

Although his cranky attitude was slowly - and I mean very slowly - subsiding, he was still a demanding and controlling pain in the ass. Ana was at his beck and call at every moment of every day. It had been only 48 hours and she was already prepared to throw in the towel. She considered herself lucky to even have thirty minutes of alone time to take a shower - and boy was she enjoying those thirty minutes. One thing she could admit about rich people was that they always had good quality showers.

The shower spray felt so soothing she couldn't imagine ever getting out. Her sore and aching muscles were relaxing at the tense and kneading motion of the shower nozzle; however, Mr. Grey had strictly given her _thirty minutes_ \- no more, no less. She sighed as she turned the water dial, ceasing the flow of the water.

She couldn't possibly fathom what his problem with punctuality was. Would it really matter if she took five extra minutes for _herself? _She hadn't been out of the house since she had gotten to his penthouse - was it so much to ask for a little time to cater to her own needs? Besides, it's not like she wasn't in the same house as him… two halls down… twenty feet away from his bedroom door. She rolled her eyes as she deliberated over her living circumstances. They spent so much time together she was positive they were sharing thoughts by now.

She grabbed her towel as she stepped out of the shower, shivering at how soft and delicate the fabric was. She sighed in contentment, silently cursing herself for actually taking _pleasure _in her jail-like living conditions. She was a prisoner if she were to be completely honest, especially with her following orders all the time and being on a strict schedule… But damn, did this prison have amazing food and comfy towels.

She rubbed the towel along her skin, soaking up the remaining beads of water. Once her whole body was completely dried off, she wrapped the towel around her wet hair and slipped into her bathrobe. Her cheeks blushed as she gathered the fabric around her petite body. The bathrobe actually wasn't hers - it was Christian's - but Mrs. Jones had given her permission to use it. In fact, she insisted that Mr. Grey - and I quote - 'would rather have her wear his bathrobe than to stumble around in a towel and run the risk of catching cold.'

_You can catch a cold from wearing a towel?_

Her cheeks reddened even more as she took in the scent of the robe. It smelled … absolutely wonderful; but Ana would never willingly admit that. She double-checked the bathroom to make sure she had gathered everything she needed, then opened the door to make a swift exit.

Except that she crashed into a pale and fragile body.

"Mr. Grey!" She exclaimed, in a concerned and admonishing tone.

She caught him as he almost toppled over, too weak to absorb the jolt from their colliding bodies. She wrapped her arms around his waist and started to lead him back to his bedroom - not an easy feat when she has to manage two IV drips and a 6'2/200 lb man.

"What the hell was that?!" She asked, completely livid.

Mr. Grey was on complete bed rest for at least two more weeks, allowing time for his wounds to heal enough to allow movement without causing extra tears to his skin - not to mention his slightly fractured ribs and twisted ankle. Ana's heart pounded as she thought of the harm he had put himself in by performing a stupid stunt like this.

"You were in there for thirty-five minutes, I said _only _thirty," he groaned, clutching at his sides.

_Good! Feel the pain you just caused yourself by being an overbearing asshole! _Ana silently yelled at him.

"Because I took five minutes longer than expected, you decided to ignore your physician's orders and put yourself in more pain and danger?!" She yelled, slamming open his door.

She walked him over to the bed, gently placing his torso onto the mattress. She lifted his legs as he slid up into a sitting position. She crossed her arms, glaring down at him. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She was his caregiver - she was supposed to be kind and understanding. Right now she was being anything but.

"I thought you had slipped," he murmured, his voice so low and gentle it almost broke Ana's heart.

Her eyes widened as she gaped at him. He thought she had slipped because she took an extra five minutes? She wasn't sure whether to roll her eyes at his nonsense or to feel flattered. She decided to do both, but her anger immediately dissipated. She sighed, completely wondering the sanity of this man she was committed to taking care of.

"I didn't slip, Mr. Grey… Even if I had, I would've been fine. You're the cripple in this situation, remember?" She joked lightly. "You can't get out of bed anymore, okay? Not until your body has healed enough to the point where strenuous movement will not worsen your condition."

He nodded, but his eyes looked eerily glossy. Ana raised an eyebrow.

"Mr. Grey, are you okay?" She asked, her lips pursed.

He giggled… _Fucking giggled._ Ana frowned, confused by his odd behavior. She wanted to know where the insensitive, controlling, sarcastic and bitter billionaire had disappeared to. The man in front of her was strangely kind and playful.

Clearly this man could not be Christian Grey.

"Never been better," he drawled.

Ana moved in closer, looking at his pupils. They were completely constricted. She then moved to his forehead, gently running the back of her hand across his skin. Sweaty and clammy.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" She asked.

Mr. Grey frowned, looking confused. He stood that way for a second - as if he was genuinely contemplating the question.

"To.. To get across?" He answered, his words slurring together.

Ana rolled her eyes, moving around to the other end of his bedside. She disconnected his morphine drip, rolling the cart to the corner of the room.

"Oh, no," he cried, "was that the wrong answer?"

Ana grunted. "The answer doesn't matter - it was a stupid question in the first place."

He frowned. "I must've got it wrong, you took my medicine away," he argued, pointing to the corner of the room.

Ana laughed. "I took your medicine away because you're high off your ass. That's partly my fault, I should've lowered your dosage yesterday. Your tolerance is going down since your pain levels are decreasing."

He glared, crossing his arms. "I don't get high, I'm not one of those low-lifes."

"Boo."

Christian laughed, throwing his head back. For a moment, Ana was speechless. He looked so… Human; not like the cold, unfeeling island he always makes himself out to be. In that moment she could see that he was a person with actual emotions… And a great smile.

She rolled her eyes at his obvious drugged state, although a small part of her was amused. She much rather would deal with this Christian 24/7 than the one she had grown accustomed to. Ana groaned as she thought about how he would revert to his old self once his high wore off. _Can't he just stay this way forever? _She thought to herself.

"Okay, 'sky high', I think it's best if you take a nap," she stated, pulling the blankets over his pale body. "Nothing over 10mg for you tonight."

He sucked his teeth. "You're a kill-joy," he mumbled.

She shrugged. "It's my job."

She went to grab the remote off of his nightstand, only for her to slightly miss and have the small controller fall onto the ground. "Shit," she whispered. She bent to down to pick it up, then resurfaced with the remote control and placed it into Christian's hand.

"You can watch TV if you can't sleep, but I'm positive that morphine is going to have you knocked out in about five minutes," she told him.

Christian was staring at her, his glossy eyes sharply focused on her face. She felt self conscious, her cheeks reddening at his scrutiny. She bit her lip, hoping he would soon turn away, but to no avail. As soon as she was going to open her mouth to ask him what the hell he was staring at, he interrupted her with what she presumed was one of his junked-up ramblings.

"Can I braid your hair?" He whispered, so softly and quietly Ana almost didn't hear.

She frowned, moving her hand to touch her head, noticing that the towel had fallen off. She didn't know when it had happened, but she presumed it took place while she was hurling a slightly high, 6 foot man down the hallway. She was going to make a joke about how he needed to sleep off his delirious state, but she realized that this was not a product of his medication. He looked so sincere… And broken. Ana wasn't sure why, but it made her chest ache. She bit her lip, contemplating what to say. It was such an odd request - to braid someone's hair, especially for a grown man. Did guys even like braiding hair? But on the other hand, she couldn't turn him down or even question his reasonings for making such a request. She had never seen him look so vulnerable. The compassionate part of Ana - which was her whole self - just nodded her head to his outlandish question. She was a woman who loved to give people what they wanted.. So why would Mr. Grey not be an exception?

She kneeled down, allowing easier access for him to reach her hair. She felt oddly… Nervous about the whole ordeal. It was so awkward for her to allow her patient to touch _her. _While she was so used to taking care of others, she had never noticed how little she allowed others to do for her. She can't even remember her own mother braiding her hair; it was only natural for her to feel slightly uncomfortable about letting a man she was just starting to know come so close to her.

But then she remembered how he looked when he asked. His whole demeanor was that of an exposed creature; vulnerability, innocence… Almost childlike in a way. She had never seen anyone look like that, let alone this strong, domineering man who had the whole world at his feet. His face in itself just split her whole heart in half. It was like looking at one of those sad, neglected puppies in the animal shelter commercials.

_How the hell can you say no to a face like that?_

Ana shivered as his hands made contact with her scalp. He ran his fingers through her hair, gently untangling any knots that had formed. Small beads of water dangled from her hair, dripping onto her skin. The droplets landed on her neck, rolling down her chest and into the creases of her bathrobe. Goosebumps developed on her skin, some from the cold beads of water, while the others were from the tingling sensation of his hands through her hair. He separated her hair into three, large sections, wrapping the chunks of hair around each other. He started from the middle of Ana's head, slowly working his way down. His fingers were not clumsy or hesitant, but instead skilled and quick. It was like he had done this a million times.

_Had he?_

As he reached the nape of her neck, his fingers brushed against her exposed skin, causing her breath to hitch. His fingers were cold, making her warm skin pucker underneath his touch. Ana bit her lip, her hands fidgeting in the small of her lap. His hands in her hair gave her a feeling she had not quite felt before. It was relaxing, but almost frightening at the same time. Being this close to him felt off, like it was too… Intimate. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and focusing on the rhythmic movement of his hands. For someone as gruff as himself, his hands were so gentle and caressing. She sighed, content, getting lost in the pull of his hands.

_Twist, pull, twist, pull, twist . . ._

And before she knew it, it was over. Her eyes opened, the air around her suddenly heavier for some reason. She stood, her knees sore from kneeling. She tugged on the loose braid hanging near the middle of her back. She wrapped the braid around her shoulders, twisting the small patch of loose hair at the ends.

_It was going to come undone soon.._

The thought made her sad.

She turned around to Mr. Grey, trying to figure out something appropriate to say. Would 'thank-you' be okay? Or would she just sound like an idiot? What exactly were the proper words to say to a 27 year old man who had braided your hair for you as if he were a professional?

_Nice skills, bro?_

But to Ana's relief, she didn't need to say anything at all. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even. She relaxed at the picture in front of her. Christian looked peaceful.. Something she almost never saw in him. It was refreshing… And she also was pleased about the fact that she would have a few hours to herself.

She made her way out of his bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. Before she made her way to her own bedroom, she stopped inside the bathroom to take a peek at Mr. Grey's creation. She switched on the bathroom lights, the fluorescent hue casting an eerie glow onto Ana's pale, alabaster skin. She tugged on her hair once more, feeling the ribbed texture of the braid. Her eyes twinkled at the sight of her hair.

It looked nice.

* * *

**_This chapter is the same length as my other ones, but for some reason feels short. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. There will be lots more to come. _**

**_-XoXo_**


	5. Chapter 5

_**I apologize for such a long break between updates. If you are still reading, I thank you for being so devoted to my little story, and I beg you to not be too disappointed in me. Life gets in the way sometimes - but I promise to make the extra effort to get these chapters up quicker!**_

* * *

She wondered if it would be impolite to take out the braid Christian made for her. She remembered his face from last night: the vulnerable, child-like look. It broke her heart into pieces, seeing such a domineering, confident, prick-asshole of a man regress to such a weak and juvenile state.

Would he even remember? He was completely out of it last night, surely that was the reason for his sudden and irregular behavior. The morphine was making him act that way… Or so Ana hoped. She wished for it to be easily explained because she _never _wanted to see Christian that way again; which confused her even further. Why was she so affected by a man who was a complete jerk to her ninety-nine percent of the time? She was just naturally empathetic, she thought, there was nothing more or less to add to her sudden feelings for Christian. No one would want to see anyone look the way he did… Or so she hoped.

She decided that it _would _be impolite to take out the braid. When he had made it, it was like a child painting a picture for someone they look up to - and everyone knows you never throw away a child's painting. You hang it up on the refrigerator as if it is the most _beautiful _thing you've ever seen… Even if you can't tell what exactly it is supposed to be. The braid didn't look half bad and they kept her hair out of her face, so she wasn't actually losing anything by keeping it in.

She grabbed her gloves and reached for the doorknob… But something was restraining her from opening the door and doing her job. It was her duty to take care of people, but for the first time in her whole entire career, she was afraid to face a patient. What if he did remember? Would that make things awkward, would he want another nurse? She sat down, taking a deep breath. Not only was she afraid of Christian's reaction, she was afraid of her _own. _Looking at him day in and day out and _knowing_ that something so damaged and painful lurked behind Christian's cold, grey eyes, and having to keep that secret hidden, never to bring it up or mention it, scared the hell out of her.

She wasn't a therapist, she couldn't approach the topic to Christian - especially if there was a chance he wouldn't even remember what the hell she was talking about. Even if he did remember, she doubted he would take too kindly to the awkward, mousey-looking, wannabe self-help specialist approaching such a sensitive topic. It was best to keep her mouth shut, which is something Anastasia Steele has never been good at.

She stood up, rolling her shoulders back and taking another deep breath. There was a man three doors down who intended to make a full recovery - and he can't do that while she hides in her room like a coward. She left the room, steeled and ready for anything, but soon that feeling subsided as she saw the look on Christian's face.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey," she chimed, trying her best to remain positive.

He waved his hand, completely dismissing her presence with one simple motion. His lips were puckered, his brows knit together in confusion - or was it outrage? He stared down at a thick stack of papers on his lap, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, and a pair of black, horn-rimmed glasses propped on the bridge of his nose.

_Christian wears glasses? This man is just _full _of surprises. _

"How are you feeling?" Ana asked, wheeling her medical cart to the side of the bed.

"Ungh," he grunted, barely removing his eyes from his stack of papers.

Well apparently, his pain was tolerable at the moment. Although Ana could not fathom what was keeping him so occupied - or outraged - she felt a small spark of happiness as she looked at him. He was back to his usual self - the dismissive, unconcerned, harsh man that he was. Was it normal to take pleasure in someone being blatantly rude and cavalier? Ana discerned that it was not, but nothing was ever normal when it came to Christian Grey.

"I'm gonna change your bandages, okay?" She announced over her shoulder as she sauntered to the handwash station.

"Ungh," he grunted in reply.

Why, Christian had taken such pleasure in his vast (and often brazen) vocabulary, but now he was reduced to rambling unintelligible and primal sounds. In a way, it amused Ana. She dried her hands and put on her gloves, slowly moving the stack of papers away from Christian's grasp.

He clicked his tongue and made a quick dash for the papers, removing them from Ana's grasp, "I'm still reading those," he barked.

"That's fantastic," she retorted, "back I can't remove your dressing if they're in the way. It will only take a couple of minutes."

He let go of the papers - reluctantly - and sat still as Ana removed his bandages. He took in a quick breath as she gently unravelled the dressing, his chest still raw and tender. Ana cleaned his wounds, placing small drops of ointment along the exposed and abraded skin. Christian's face was pinched in discomfort the whole time, his hands balled into fists. As Ana stole quick glances at his face, she realized that not once has she ever seen him cry out. When he first arrived at the hospital, he would often groan in pain, but never had there been any tears or piercing sounds of suffering. She had once seen a robust, intimidating man come into the ER with three broken fingers. As strong and macho as the man had looked, she remembered tears stream down his face as one of the orthopedists reset all three of his broken fingers. Ana realized that people have very different tolerances for pain, but it seemed abnormal for someone with severe skin abrasions across their entire chest - and fractured ribs - to not cry.

He grabbed the end of her braid, twirling the loose hair around his finger. Ana paused, apprehensive of what he would do, before continuing his treatment like nothing had happened. _Oh, God, did he remember? _She thought to herself, her heart rate slowly increasing. She opened a new pack of dressing, her hands shaking ever so slightly.

He was still twirling Ana's hair around his finger, looking intensely at her from underneath hooded eyes. Ana tried to ignore him, but she couldn't help herself from stealing a glance at him. She wanted to know what he was thinking, to guess on how he would react if she mentioned the topic. When she looked at him, she saw the heated, piercing stare of his grey eyes, the slight curve of his lips. Ana looked down - confused - yet, very embarrassed. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, but she wasn't sure _why _she felt the way she did. It was something about the way he was looking at her, as if she had something he wanted.

She exhaled sharply, trying to finish his dressing as quickly as possible. Christian continued to play with her hair, wrapping more and more of the strands, until he moved up to the braid itself. He twisted the plait from side to side, examining his handiwork. At this point Ana stopped, too anxious to move, or even _breathe_. She anticipated every movement, so confused, but so curious as to what was going on. He wrapped the entire braid around his hand, his fist full of Anastasia's chocolate brown hair. Neither of them moved, Ana's eyes cast downward, Christian's eyes penetrating her entire body - so intense, it felt as if he were looking straight through her. Ana wanted to pull away; _God_, how she wanted to pull away… But she didn't move. She tentatively looked up at him, taking one slow, shuddering breath.

"I think I should finish applying your bandages," she whispered, her voice a meaningless rustle inside the room.

Christian tugged on her braid, pulling her face closer to his. Ana gasped as her stomach flipped, the skin along her neck puckering with excitement. Christian let go of her braid, the twined hair falling limp behind Ana's shoulders. She took a step back, smoothing down her scrubs.

"Go right ahead," he whispered.

* * *

She raked the brush through her brown locks, desperately trying to remove the trace of the braid in her hair - and the events that had just occurred. _What the hell was that?! _She screamed inside her head. Was it the drugs? The pain? Was Christian going stir crazy? She tried to think of a million explanations to _why _he had just acted the way he did towards her.

Ana didn't think she was ugly, _per say_, but she didn't consider herself attractive enough for Christian to look at her the way he just did an hour ago. In fact, she knew something had to be different, considering Christian had never looked at her that way ever before. Something had changed… Yet she didn't know what it was. She sighed, pulling her fingers through her hair. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror - her brown hair cascading in untidy and tangled loose waves, the faint trace of bags under her eyes, and her skin as pale as ever - her body filled with dread. She looked like shit and _felt _even more like shit.

The fact that she had to go face him once again made her stomach drop. Why, oh why, did she agree to this? The hospital would've been fine without a donation - it probably won't do much good anyway. She felt horrible thinking such thoughts, but she didn't know how to act around Christian. Never had she ever had to deal with someone so intimidating, so rude and demanding, so attractive…

She shook her head, placing her head in her hands. She didn't even want to continue that train of thought. She felt crazy, out of control, confused with everything that was happening. Just the day before she had been in charge of the situation - she was standing her ground and not letting the bastard that is Christian Grey walk all over her… Now she felt powerless to him.

She hated it.

Ana groaned, sinking down to the ground. What in the world was she going to do?

_Pull your shit together, _she thought to herself. _You get paid to take care of people - regardless if they're an asshole or look like a greek god. Get it together!_

Anastasia Steele was not a weakling. She stood up, prepared to pretend like nothing had happened. Prepared to ignore all the confusion and pandemonium of her thoughts. At the end of the day, Christian Grey was just another human. And all humans are the same.

* * *

"No, that's not what the fuck I agreed to, Ros!" Christian growls, his face pinched in annoyance.

Ana walks into the room, her eyes focused on Christian and the hostile phone conversation he is having. She checks his medicine drip, making sure to _not _cause another overdose, then she takes her blood pressure cuff out of her medical cart and wraps it around his left bicep.

"Hold still," she commands, but obviously Christian ignores her.

"The whole damn agreement is going to fold. I _specifically _agreed to those terms, they can't just fuck around now to get a better offer."

As Christian continues his tirade, he shifts around violently, causing Ana's stethoscope to move positions multiple times. She rolls her eyes, ripping the cuff off of his arm. She wheels the medical cart to the corner of the room, swiftly returning to his bedside to unplug the telephone. She wraps the cord around the receiver, throwing it across the room.

"What the fuck?!" He bellows.

Ana ignores him, opening the bedside drawer and taking hold of his blackberry. She places it on top the wood surface, then unties her shoe. With her right shoe gripped tightly in her hand, she smashes it into the screen of his phone. She continues the motion over and over, until soon the pristine glass screen is unrecognizable. She places her shoe back on, then sits perfectly calm into the chair across from Christian's bed.

Christian is staring at her, bewildered and outraged at the same time. His mouth is wide open, the corners of his eyes crinkled in confusion. Ana smooths her hair back, crossing her legs as she stares at the TV screen. The familiar creepy and odd crone of the _X-files _blasts through the TV speakers, causing Ana's eyebrows to rise.

"Oh look, the _X-files _are on," she states dryly.

Christian continued to stare at her, a small smile creeping across his face. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but for some reason he felt a little bit more warmly towards the brown-haired girl who sat across from him.

* * *

_**This chapter is more of a lead-in to the next chapter. I hope it's not too bad, but I have a lot more to come. Once again, I thank all of you for reading.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Enjoy. **_

_**Xoxo**_

* * *

A man in his mid-20s is expected to have friends. Depending on his lifestyle, he might have plenty of companions - maybe too many. Christian Grey was a successful, attractive, young male; obviously he would have friends. Despite all logical reasoning, Ana still couldn't help but to feel confused when she saw the tall, leggy blonde stand near the threshold of Christian's bedroom.

She had on an all black jumpsuit, her blonde hair sitting neatly on her shoulders. She stood tall and poised, a slight smirk on her face. She uncrossed her arms, stepping into his room and moving to his bedside in order to look down at him. At the sight of his disheveled appearance, she frowned and sucked her teeth.

"You look like shit," she mumbled, rolling her eyes and stepping back to run a hand through her hair.

Her hair stayed firmly in place.

Christian sat up, his face hardened and impassive. No doubt that the two knew each other, but Ana wasn't aware that Christian would be having visitors. For God's sake he forbade his own family members to see him until he recovered - who could this mystery lady possibly be.

The so-called mystery lady peeked over at Ana, her eyes widening as if she had just noticed that there was another human lurking in the corner. She gave her a small smile, the fake mirth barely reaching her eyes. Ana returned the smile - her's actually genuine - and rushed over to extend her hand to the blonde bombshell.

"I'm Ana, Mr. Grey's nurse, it's so nice to meet you…?"

"Elena," the woman answered, ignoring Ana's outstretched hand, "Elena Lincoln."

She turned back to Christian, releasing a long and dramatic sigh. "Ya know, Christian, I really thought we were over this…" She began.

"Don't even start with this shit, Elena," Christian sneered, running his hands through his hair.

She held up her hand to silence him.

"A motorcycle? _Really? _You barely drive yourself anywhere for Christ's sake, and then you want to speed down a damn highway on a _motorcycle?!_ If I didn't know any better, I would say that you're still the spoiled, rebellious brat from twelve years ago - oh wait, you _are_," she finished, her face contorted in a scowl.

Christian sighed harshly, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "See, this is why I fucking denied any visitors."

"Well, when you do dumb stuff, people usually call you out on it. Look at you! Can you even wipe your own ass?" She turned towards Ana, "Can he?"

Ana opened her mouth to reply, "Don't answer that," Christian snapped, pointing a finger at her. Ana closed her mouth.

"Whatever I do, is none of your damn concern. If I wanted to hear your opinion, I would've fucking asked! No one invited you over." His eyes were stone cold, his jaw clenched tightly.

Elena cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms yet again. "I see we're still having temper tantrums," she murmured under her breath. She stood up straight and walked around the room, raising her eyebrows at the phone that still sat in the corner. Her eyes flited towards his medicine cart, examining the various vials. She held one up, "You can send this to my place when you're done with it."

Christian rolled his eyes. "Is there a reason you're here?" He asked impatiently.

"Well, for one, I'm thoroughly enjoying your misery - you deserve it for being irresponsible; but we do actually have a business arrangement to discuss," she raised her eyebrows knowingly, glancing over at Ana as if she were imposing on their conversation.

Ana snapped back to reality, realizing that she, in fact, was gaping like an idiot at their whole exchange. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, doing absolutely nothing but eavesdropping. She blushed bright red, mumbling a half-assed apology as she turned away to tidy up the room.

Christian narrowed his eyes, giving Elena a warning look. He sat up even further, clearing his throat. "Ana, do you mind getting me something to drink? My throat is dry."

Ana frowned, wondering why he was asking her for something so trivial. Normally, he would ask Mrs. Jones to fulfill such a request, but Ana realized that whatever they had to talk about - he didn't want her to hear. She nodded, clearly taking the hint. As she walked out - closing the door behind her - she realized if she should even bother getting him a glass of water; he probably would forget he even asked. On the other hand, Christian is a demanding asshole, so surely he would expect her to do something for him despite the fact that he didn't actually want it.

She sighed, walking down the stairs and into the stark, white kitchen of Mr. Grey's penthouse. She noticed that Mrs. Jones was nowhere to be seen. _Probably doing laundry, _she thought to herself. She took a look around Christian's kitchen, noting how expensive and clean everything was. All of the appliances couldn't be more than a year old, and his fridge and pantry were stocked with the finest foods; it looked like he shopped at markets or bakeries, unlike Ana who got everything she consumed from Walmart.

She opened one of the drawers, raising her eyebrows appreciatively at the pristine silverware. She closed it back, reaching up on her tippy-toes in order to open one of the cabinets. There were nothing but plates and bowls, so she closed it and tried another. She found the glasses, pulling out one and walking to the sink in order to fill it.

"Why did he hire you?"

Anastasia jumped, dropping the glass into the sink. Thankfully, it didn't break. She turned around to meet Elena's assertive stance. She had her arms crossed, leaning languidly on the breakfast bar.

"Uh, I don't know…. He just did," Ana replied, but it sounded like more of a question than a statement. To be honest with herself, Ana really didn't understand why Christian hired her either. She was a great nurse - she could admit it - but she didn't think she was $250,000 donation great.

Elena smirked, but it looked more like a scowl. "So I take it he hasn't disclosed any information about his lifestyle?"

Ana frowned, rubbing her arm nervously. The way Elena towered over her, how her body oozed dominance, scared the hell out of Ana. This strange woman was taking an interest in her - but for what?

"He owns a multi-billion dollar company, but that's about all I know of his lifestyle - which I found out from someone else, by the way."

Elena hmphed, uncrossing her arms and taking a small breath. Her scowl seemed to soften, as if Ana had said something that she approved of. She gave Ana another smile - a phony one - and turned away to walk towards the door.

"I have a feeling you'll find out," she called over her shoulder.

As Ana watched Elena walk away, she wasn't able to spot the blonde's hardened eyes and fierce look on her face.

* * *

Ana knocked on Christian's door, wondering if the "business arrangement" he had just discussed had put him in a bad mood or not. She held his glass of water in her left hand, although she was almost positive he wouldn't drink it.

"Come in," he called, his voice barely audible.

Ana opened the door, approaching him slowly. She placed the glass on his bedside drawer, stepping back to gauge the emotion on Christian's face. He was neither upset nor calm, not passive nor demanding. It was if he were in some sort of limbo - like he was unsure of his next move.

"I got your water," she mumbled, but then mentally kicked herself for sounding like such an asshat.

He nodded, murmuring a small 'thank you'.

She stood there awkwardly, not sure of what to do. His pain had been quite manageable that day and considering he no longer had a phone to use to answer any calls, his mood had also been manageable that day. Ana wasn't sure how to react to this robotic, impassive Christian she was looking at.

"So… What do you wanna do?" She asked, wringing her hands anxiously.

He looked at her, his face not holding any certain emotion… But simply just looked at her. Ana blushed, looking down and turning away to turn on the tv. She sat in the chair across from him, still waiting for his answer.

As she looked up, she realized he was still looking at her. Her stomach dropped, her cheeks flushing redder. She wanted to ask what he was staring at - make some sort of wisecrack - but she didn't. For some reason, she felt like he was having some sort of personal moment.

"Nothing," he answered. "I don't want to do anything."

"Oh," she answered, "Oh! I could leave if you want…" She began to stand up, but he shook his head.

"You can… Stay. I just don't want to do anything."

"So… No talking?"

He shook his head no.

"And… No _X-files_?"

He shook his head no.

Ana sighed, sitting back in her chair. She felt awkward - extremely awkward, but decided that she'd humor him. If he wanted to sit in a silent room and do nothing, then hell - they'd do nothing. She closed her eyes, relaxing for the first time since she had taken this job.

"Are you always this mysterious after business arrangements?" Ana quipped.

"Only the one's I'm unsure about," he answered.

Ana opened one eye to peek at him, and realized that he was still staring at her. She shut her eye quickly, pretending that he wasn't there in the room and that none of this was actually happening.

"And what makes you so _unsure _of this particular arrangement?"

"It's not a what, it's a who."

Ana opened both of her eyes, but this time she held his look. Christian seemed to be looking through her - so deeply and analytical it was almost as if he could see her soul. She wanted to challenge him, hold his gaze until he turned away, but of course she backed down. She bit her lip and closed her eyes again, shrinking into the back of the chair.

"If you feel unsure about something or someone - don't do it. Intuition is usually your best bet."

Christian shook his head. "That's the funny thing - my intuition is telling me to go along with it… Even when logically I know I shouldn't."

Ana pretended not to hear.

* * *

_**This came out much shorter than I intended, but I still hope you were able to find some enjoyment. Review to let me know what you think. (I'm taking as many suggestions as I can get!)**_

_**Xoxo**_


	7. Chapter 7

She felt like she couldn't breathe. As she walked up and down the length of the room, peeking over at Christian's sleeping form at random intervals, she clutched at her throat as if she could somehow pry it open. Were the walls closing in? Did it somehow get hotter in the room - drier? She fanned herself with her hands, trying to take deep and steady breaths, but instead they turned out shallow and raspy.

Ana had never considered herself to be claustrophobic, but as the days dragged further on, she felt less and less comfortable indoors. Every room seemed tight, compact. She felt as if there was never enough space, like she'd never escape the cold, stark walls of Christian Grey's penthouse. Did she remember what the sun looked like? Could her eyes even _adjust _to the sunlight?

Her subconscious laughed at her; it had only been a week, but it felt like _years. _Dealing with a petulant, self-absorbed, and domineering asshole twenty four hours of the day could do that. Ana had never been pent up inside for so long - in fact, it's always been the opposite. She had a busy life: get up for work, take care of her patients, drive home, make dinner, call her parents, take a shower, go to bed and do it all over again. On her days off she pretended as if she had a life outside of her job; she cleaned the house, went to the bookstore, grabbed some coffee and rented a movie. All of those actions required _movement, fresh air. _Taking care of Christian was like dwelling in some purgatory. She would check his vitals, administer his medicine, then change his bandages… And then watch _X-files. _It was so repetitive, so drab, so _stagnant. _

She was going stir crazy.

Her breathing quickened and she tried to fan herself faster, which only accomplished making her more out of breath. _I've got to get out of here, _she thought to herself, her eyes darting to each corner of the room. She knew that in that moment she looked crazy, like some strung out lunatic or a patient in an insane asylum, but she couldn't control her body or her emotions. All she knew was that she _needed to get out. _

She flung open the door to Christian's room, racing down the stairs and through the foyer. She furiously jabbed the elevator call button, beckoning the doors to open sooner. Ana tried to focus on her breathing, to slow it down. Her head started to feel light, the room started to spin.

"Ms. Steele?"

She jumped, a small squeak escaping her lips. A pair of warm, rough hands enclosed themselves around her forearms. Ana looked up, faintly recognizing the man in front of her. He was Christian's security guard, or something related to that.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Grey has specifically stated that you are to _not _leave his penthouse suite under any circumstances," the man said, his voice soft yet commanding.

"I… Can't… Breathe," Ana stumbled, once again clutching at her throat.

The man's face morphed into one of concern, his hands moving to Ana's shoulders in order to guide her back into the penthouse. She pulled away, forcing his hands off of her. In that moment, the elevator doors opened and she dashed inside, repeatedly pressing the '_1'_ button in order to get to the lobby.

The man jumped in after her, at first trying to pull her back outside of the elevator, but then thought better of it. He stood beside her and coaxed her to breathe steadily as the elevator descended. When they reached the lobby she jumped out and ran towards the exit, pushing the revolving doors with all of her might. She pushed so forcefully that once she was outside, she cascaded to the ground, falling on her hands and knees.

She took a long, deep breath, filling her lungs with the fresh air. Her cheeks stung at the force of the wind, her eyes tearing up against the harsh cold. Despite the fact that it was freezing and she had on nothing but a pair of scrubs, she welcomed the feel of the air on her skin. Her breathing returned to normal and she no longer felt lightheaded or dizzy.

Warm, rough hands once again enclosed around her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice slightly tinged with amusement.

Ana realized that pedestrians were looking at her, some with concern while others walked past nonchalantly. Her cheeks tinged red and she quickly got off the ground, brushing the dirt off of her pant legs.

She nodded, taking another deep breath. "I feel _much _better actually."

He smiled, it was small and tightlipped, but it was genuine. He placed his hands on her shoulder once again, "I understand your condition, but Mr. Grey has made it a point for you to stay indoors."

Ana backed away, wrapping her arms around herself. "I can't go back in there," she whispered, anxiety filling her body.

He fidgeted, not sure whether to obey his boss and _drag _Ana back upstairs, or to allow her a few more moments of solace. He pursued his lips - surely he would have to allow her to recover - what good would she be to Mr. Grey if she couldn't even take care of her own self?

"Okay," he acquiesced, "a few minutes, but we will have to return soon." Ana bit her lip, but didn't argue any further. After all, she did sign up for this when she agreed to be Christian's personal nurse, but she really wished he wasn't so controlling.

The pair walked down the street, taking advantage of the fresh air. Ana looked calm, relaxed. She was grateful to be out of that _godforsaken _penthouse. Taylor, on the other hand, was praying that Mr. Grey never realized they were gone. After the breach of security that Elena pulled, Taylor wasn't so sure he was in good graces with the megalomaniac.

* * *

"So how long have you been working for Christian?" She asked between small bites of her blueberry muffin.

Taylor and Ana sat in a coffee shop, the pungent aroma of coffee beans and the hushed chatter of the customers wafting around them. She felt alive again, free to be among her own people instead of locked away inside his ivory tower. It was almost like a fairytale - the comely, innocent girl being trapped inside the dragon's lair and the handsome prince coming to save her - only this time, Ana saved herself and was nowhere near comely, and couldn't actually see Christian as a dragon. He breathed fire, but he had started to grow on her; she somewhat _liked _him.

_He can be a lizard instead._

"About… Five years," he stated, having to actually think about it for a second. He shifted in his seat and rearranged his tie. How long had they been there? Surely, Mr. Grey had awoke by now.

The thought made his stomach drop.

"You've dealt with _that _for five years? I don't know how you survived," Ana mumbled dryly.

Taylor smiled, the corners of his lips only slightly turning upwards, but the mirth reached his eyes. Taylor knew that Mr. Grey was difficult, but once you got to know him, he became tolerable.. Likeable.

"He's not all bad," he started, "he is actually quite generous. He pays for my daughter's schooling, he gives me ample time off and healthcare benefits."

Ana nodded, not doubting Taylor's words for a second. She knew Mr. Grey had no problem spending money, but somehow she felt he had issues connecting with others. Did he provide for Taylor and his child because he _liked _him, or did he do it just to ensure that Taylor wouldn't quit?

"He's… Growing on me," she admitted, then immediately blushed red. She wasn't quite sure why she had just blurted that out.

Taylor didn't respond, only slightly raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. He gave Ana a peculiar look, however, like he knew something she didn't.

"It is not my place to say this… But Mr. Grey normally doesn't take much interest in most people, so.. Just be patient with him."

Ana looked down at her half-eaten muffin, deliberating over what Taylor had said. She believed that Christian didn't take interest in _anyone, _but for some reason he _had _asked for her to be his private nurse. Since the moment she took the job, she wondered what it was about her that made him want her and solely her. Could it be…?

She halted her thoughts before it even went in that direction. _You're a good nurse - end of story._

"We better get going," she muttered, pushing out her chair and wrapping the muffin in a napkin.

Taylor stood eagerly, guiding Ana towards the exit. He thought they'd never leave.

* * *

Christian wasn't yelling - which meant that he was furious. He twirled a pen around his finger, his eyes intense and soul-boring. He looked at Ana and Taylor as they stood at the threshold, his eyes darkening and his jaw tightening. He gave them a tightlipped smile devoid of any humor or niceties.

"Well, I thought I'd be alone up here forever," his voice was smooth like honey, but there was a slight edge to his tone. It was mocking, almost frightening.

"I-" Ana started, but was immediately cut off.

"Taylor, a word please?" he asked, twirling the pen once again.

Ana bit her lip, dread filling her body. She had been the one to disobey orders, but now Taylor was going to be punished. She felt guilty - terribly guilty - but at the same time she felt little bursts of anger penetrate her body. Who was Christian to tell her what she can and cannot do? She was a grown woman with free will, but he wanted to force her to do what _he _wanted?

"No," she demanded, stepping in front of Taylor, blocking his entrance into the room. "I'd like a few _words_ with you first."

Christian rolled his eyes and Taylor stepped forward, but Ana placed her arm in front of him, halting his movement.

_Nurses can be strong when they need to be. _

"I was going stir crazy in here. I couldn't breathe, couldn't eat or drink. I was dizzy, lightheaded - I thought the walls were closing in at one point," she exclaimed, "I needed fresh air or I surely would've passed out. I can't assist you, Mr. Grey, if I am not in the best of health myself. This is no one's fault - especially not Taylor's," she finished, feeling satisfied with herself.

Taylor silently groaned, wishing Ana hadn't said anything. He knew things were going to get infinitely worse.

Christian cocked an eyebrow, "I see you two have become acquainted," he spat, his mouth pressing into a hard line. "I appreciate your valor, _Ms. Steele_, but I'd like a word with my employee."

Ana frowned, feeling defeated. She stepped out of the way and turned around to exit, her tail tucked between her legs. Sometimes Christian made her feel like a child - and she hated that. When she stood up to him, she lost. When she didn't stand up to him, she was a coward. It was always a lose-lose situation.

"Asshole," she mumbled as she walked away.

"Thanks for trying," Taylor whispered before shutting the door.

Despite her anger and embarrassment, a small smile crossed her face. Taylor was a good man, she wasn't sure how he had gotten stuck with _the lizard. _But after all, she was a good girl too… And she wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.

* * *

"You didn't fire him, did you?" Ana asked hesitantly, checking Christian's blood pressure.

He frowned. "Taylor is my most trusted bodyguard and the head of my security team. Why would I fire him?"

Ana shrugged her shoulders, listening intently to his heartbeat. "I guess from his performance over the last couple of days… You don't strike me as a forgiving person."

"I'm not," he declared, "but that doesn't mean I will forego my loyalty towards him. He is a very competent team member and although I am not happy with his performance… I understand his actions." Christian reached his hand over to scratch his wounds, which Ana promptly swatted away. "It fucking itches," he muttered.

"Good, that means it's healing." She took off the blood pressure cuff and wrapped her stethoscope around her shoulders. "What do you mean by, 'I understand his actions'?"

Christian looked towards her, their eyes locking. Ana looked down, her cheeks flushing pink. Christian's eyes were so intense… They made her feel naked.

"Elena is demanding, domineering. When she wants something, she gets it; and she wanted to see me, so there's that. You, on the other hand," he paused, his eyes roaming over every inch of her: her hair, her eyes, her lips, "are special… You get people to contemplate things they never would've."

Ana bit her lip, unsure how to take Christian's comments. She was special to him…. And she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. He was a peculiar man - and that frightened her. Something about him screamed danger.

Christian reached up to grab Ana's chin, pulling slightly to release her bottom lip from the clutches of her teeth.

"Don't do that," he breathed, his eyes fiery with passion.

"Why?" she asked, her breathing shallow and her heart speeding up.

"Because it makes me want to do things… Things you can't even imagine." He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair.

_Control, Grey… Control._

The brunette in front of him made him feel unhinged, crazy sometimes, even. He leaned back, closing his eyes tight. He tried to erase the images of her tied up and vulnerable out of his mind, but they only burned brighter. God, he'd do anything - _anything _\- to have a piece of her; but he knew he never would. Not a girl like Ana - she was too good - which is why her next words surprised him.

She leaned in closer, biting her lip. "Why is that such a bad thing?"

He grabbed her, pulling her close enough to where their faces were only inches apart. His breathing became ragged, his voice pained. "You're innocent… Sweet. I'm the exact opposite; dangerous, even. You don't _want_ to know the things I'd like to do, much less participate."

She didn't back down. She gazed at him, trying to read his mind - to understand his thoughts and feelings. There was this powerful, confident man that stood before her, but she had seen him at his most vulnerable point. He was hiding. There was a scared boy behind his facade… And even further there lied something dark, sinister.

"I'm special, you said… What is it about me?" She pleaded, desperate to know why she made him feel this way and even more desperate to know why _he _affected _her._

He let her go, turning away. He laughed bitterly, "I don't even know myself."

* * *

Ana stayed in the shower longer than usual that night. She tried to scrub away all the feelings she had felt that day, the memories, the conversations. None of it made sense, which made her want to think about it _more. _Despite what she wanted, Christian was crawling his way inside of her head and heart. It was like he was an infectious disease - he played with your emotions and _forced _you to care about him, to take interest.

She wondered if he felt the same about her.

Obviously, she had to shut down whatever was happening immediately. He was her patient - that whole conversation they had back there bordered on illegal.

_He's only a patient for a couple more weeks… Then he's free to do whatever._

Ana ignored her subconscious, much like how she was trying to ignore everything she felt and said. She wrapped a towel around her hair and body, desperately wanting to go to sleep and forget that the whole day ever happened. It was exhausting - more so than anything she had ever experienced. She exited the bathroom and walked towards her bedroom.

"Hey there, doc," a sultry voice exclaimed.

Ana turned around and was met with the ice cold eyes of Elena Lincoln. _She got past security _again_?_

"Nurse, actually," Ana quipped.

"It's all the same," she murmured, waving her hand absentmindedly, "I stopped by for another 'business meeting' and just wanted to say hello." She smiled, but it looked more like a sneer.

"Oh, well.. Hello. I'm quite tired, though, so I'm gonna head to bed," Ana said, turning away.

"Ms. Steele," Elena called, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes?" Ana turned back around.

"Christian has taken a certain… Liking to you," Elena informed, inching closer to Ana. Her movements were predatory, like a wolf. "And it amuses me. Christian is picky, so consider yourself lucky."

"Why are you telling me this?" Ana asked, her eyes narrowed. She didn't trust the blonde in front of her and Elena sure as hell didn't give her any reason to.

"Because you're cute, like a little puppy. Your innocence, _purity_ -"

Ana blushed and looked down.

"-Oh yes, sweetheart, it's obvious. I can practically smell it on you," Elena wrinkled her nose, "but it won't last for long. Christian is a hard man to please. He has specific needs… Needs I don't think you can fulfill. And even if by some miracle you _do_, he gets bored quickly."

"Thanks for the… Information? But I don't think I need your advice - I'm not interested," Ana spat.

Elena smirked - and this time it was genuine. "I'm sorry… I just have such a motherly instinct. I have to look out for all my cubs," she called over her shoulder, sashaying down the hallway. Her form disappeared when she rounded the corner.

Ana slunk down against the wall, her head in her hands. What had she gotten into?

* * *

_**This chapter was very fun to write, I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm thinking of having two more chapters of Ana being Christian's nurse, then put in a time jump.**_

_**Yay or nay?**_

**_-Xoxo_**

**_Edit: _Okay, I think I might have confused some of you with these last couple of chapters. Lots of reviewers seem upset about Elena, the time jump, and Christian not allowing Ana to leave the house; so, I've decided to clear everything up for you guys.**

**\- Elena and Christian are NOT hooking up; they are looking for Christian's next submissive. That's all I'm going to say - I don't want to put any spoilers here.**

**\- Elena is NOT sneaking past security. After her first impromptu visit, Christian has allowed her to return. Taylor wouldn't let a second breech of security happen, Ana only thinks that is the case because she doesn't know the history that Elena and Christian share.**

**\- The time jump would not be major, it would only be a week after Ana stopped being Christian's nurse. None of you have to worry about that though, I've decided to hold off on the idea.**

**\- Christian doesn't want Ana leaving the house because of the paparazzi and tabloid rumors. Everyone knows he was in an accident and is receiving private care, but he doesn't want Ana to be exposed to the public in that way; he'd prefer no one to find out she is his nurse so she'll avoid being in the magazines. I could've written that scene a little bit better - I apologize. It was quite confusing.**

**\- One reviewer asked about my update schedule, but I currently don't have one. I write whenever I have time or when I come up with a good idea for a chapter. I'm trying to break out of that habit and find a day to update on regularly - we'll see. I'm thinking Friday?**

**\- Another reviewer (on my newest story) asked about Not Yet Written, which is currently on hiatus. I most definitely have plans to continue it, but I don't like the way its turning out so far. I'm thinking of finishing Vital Signs and getting my other story up and running before going back to my oldest one.**

**I hope that cleared everything up. Once again, I thank you guys for being understanding and dedicated readers!**

**-Xoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is short, but I think it provides a great lead-in for chapter 9. I don't remember the layout of Christian's house, nor do I care enough to go back and check. Use your imagination (:**

* * *

"Okay," she started, "When I said light walking, I meant maybe around the house."

Ana's eyes were narrowed, her vision centered on the treadmill newly delivered to Christian Grey's penthouse. She turned around, her arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on her face.

"I'm not going to keep it," he argued, "I'll get rid of it after my therapy."

She gaped. "That's even worse! Now you're doubly wasting money."

Christian rolled his eyes and placed his hands on the wheels of his chair, rolling himself around to get a closer look on the exercise equipment. Ana rushed over to him, gripping the handle bars of his wheelchair. "You're not supposed to wheel yourself," she admonished.

He sighed. "Can you loosen up? You're making my tension worse."

She frowned, noting the irony in his words. Mr. Grey was giving her lessons on how to loosen up?

He rolled his shoulders, taking a couple deep breaths and running both hands through his hair. "I need to exercise," he declared, his voice strained and his eyes pensive.

Ana sucked her teeth. "Where the hell are you even going to put this?" She asked, gesturing awkwardly to the treadmill plopped in the middle of his living room. It sat diagonal to the window, the front of the machine conveniently lined up with the flat screen television.

"Here," he stated. "I'm not keeping it, so after it's use has worn out, I'll throw it away."

Ana opened her mouth to reply, but Christian cut her off before she could respond. "Or, perhaps, I'll loan it to you. It's godly to give back to the poor."

She stood up taller and crossed her arms, glaring at the back of his head. She contemplated wheeling him out of the window, but quickly pushed the thought aside. She took a deep breath and faked a smile, walking around his chair to look him in the eyes.

"Look who's cranky today," she sang, as if talking to a small child.

Christian rolled his eyes - the second time in under a minute - and gripped the arm rests of his wheelchair, attempting to stand up. Ana pushed him back down, shaking her head at him. "You're going to mess you ankle up even worse! Calm down," she grumbled.

"I am calm," he growled, his jaw tight and eyes cold.

Ana laughed, "Sure," she mocked, drawing out the E sound in the word. "You can exercise later - you just ate."

He sat back in his chair. "Fine," he murmured petulantly, crossing his arms.

She turned up her nose. He was such a man-child. "Do you want to go back to your room?" She asked, her voice slightly gentler than before.

Christian thought about the long flight of stairs he would have to face, his ankle already throbbing. He shook his head, "No, I like the light down here," he lied.

Ana smiled to herself, "Okay," she chirped, pushing him slowly. "Baby," she taunted, her voice low.

He turned his head, his eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?" He asked.

Ana widened her eyes, an innocent expression on her face. "What? I didn't say anything."

He narrowed his eyes before turning back around. "Where are you taking me?"

Ana shrugged. "I'm not sure. How many rooms do you have in your dungeon?" She asked, continuing to push his wheelchair forward. She had no specific location in mind, she simply wanted to explore his household further, considering he never let her out of his sight for more than five minutes.

"What do you define as a 'room'?" He asked. "It could range from eight to ten depending on your perspective," he admitted, completely aloof at how pretentious he just sounded.

"Your bathroom is larger than my whole apartment, so you can assume my perspective is quite broad," she muttered, turning a corner. "Oh my god," she breathed, slowly letting go of Christian's handlebars. She sauntered towards the threshold of the library, her eyes wide with astonishment. "It's beautiful."

Christian frowned. "You've never seen books before?"

Ana rushed into the room, her fingertips lightly brushing over the various books enclosed in the bookshelves. Christian followed behind her, slowly wheeling himself to one of the shelves. She pulled one out, her jaw dropping. "I've seen books, but not first editions," she exclaimed. She flipped to a random page, lifting the book to her nose and taking a long whiff. She moaned, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Ew," Christian complained, feigning disgust; however, he was quite amused. He had never met someone so in love with books, or who appreciated their value more than him.

"Ew?" She asked, incredulous, "Old books smell better than cake."

"In what world?"

"Mine," she beamed, delicately placing the book back in its allotted space. She took hold of Christian's chair, pushing him out of the same way they had came. "What other oddities are you hiding around here?"

"A room dedicated to sex torture," Christian deadpanned.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Ana laughed, her voice mocking.

Christian shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"You have a very weird sense of humor, Mr. Grey," Ana remarked, peeking her head inside of the game room, noting the pool table. "Do you play?" She asked.

"Yes, quite well, actually," he declared.

She rolled her eyes. "Narcissistic, much?"

"Should I understand what that means?" He frowned, looking back at her. "You young folks and your slang," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"Sorry, Grandpa," she sang.

"I'm sure my food has digested by now," he huffed, "I'd like to take a round on that $2000 machine I just bought."

"Mr. Grey, are you aware that it's impolite to include money into everyday conversation?"

"I disclosed that information so you wouldn't have to ask," he responded, "and it also pisses you off." He smiled to himself.

Ana took another deep breath, forcing herself not to open the nearest window. "Well, you're just a peach," she snorted. "What's in there?" She asked, nodding her head towards a room at the end of the hall.

"Playroom," Christian disclosed.

"Like X-box and stuff?"

"You could include boxes in the type of games played in there, so sure," Christian admitted.

She pursed her lips, slowly shaking her head at him. Christian Grey was very, very weird.

"Okie dokie," she chirped, turning his chair around. "I suppose we test out that $2000 machine."

* * *

"I'm getting paid to help you, ya know," she called out from behind the shower door.

"I'm fine," he growled, "there is a such thing as personal space."

"Oh, really?" She tempted, "Coming from you?"

He grunted, ignoring her attitude. If she were his, her smart mouth would be dealt with immediately; but, alas, she wasn't… At least not yet. If he could trust Elena to work her magic, then who knows, maybe he had a chance.

Probably not, though.

"You have about thirty more seconds before your ankle gives out," Ana declared, her arms crossed. Never had she cared for someone so petulant and stubborn. He had hired her for God's sake — the least she could do was give him a damn bath.

"Yeah, okay," Christian snorted.

Ana eyed her watch, counting down the seconds. After the thirty-second mark, she opened the door, catching Christian's falling body in the nick of time. She groaned and rolled her eyes, moving his body to the large garden tube adjacent to the shower. She sat him down on the edge, turning his body in a way that allowed for his swollen ankle to be elevated.

"You just _had_ to have it your way, didn't you?" She snarled, throwing a towel at him. She grabbed one for herself, wiping water droplets off of her forearms and towel-drying the ends of her hair.

"Yes, I did," he said, "that's usually how I do things."

"Ugh!" She wailed. "You're such a brat! You're not superman, you can't do everything yourself!"

He glared, his hands balling into fists. "Really, I can't? Because I've doing _just that_ for about twenty-seven years now," he ranted.

"Oh, shut up," she quipped, rolling her eyes. "You fed and clothed yourself when you were an infant?"

"You don't know half the shit I've had to deal with," he boomed. "And you're going to stop rolling your eyes at me," he proclaimed, his voice a deadly whisper and his eyes as cold as ice.

Ana bit her lip, "Or what?" she dared, her heart speeding up. Blood rushed to her cheeks, her pale skin colored a light pink. Christian narrowed his eyes, wishing that in that moment he could ravish every inch of her body.

"Do you really want to find out?"

Ana breathed, her voice a faint whisper, "Yes, I think I do."

* * *

**It would be cruel to leave you with such a cliffhanger, so I'll try to have the next chapter up tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed and sorry I was gone for so long. Reviews are appreciated.**

**-Xoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

**I officially changed this story's rating from T to M. Enjoy lol.**

* * *

They were on the floor.

Despite his throbbing ankle, the barely healed wounds that angrily adorned his chest, and every single thought in his mind that shouted _no!, _Christian had mustered up the strength to grab Ana and jostle her onto the clean, white tile.

His hands roamed her body, the hard, calloused feel of his touch heating up Ana's skin. He crushed his lips onto hers, tasting how sweet and soft her lips were. Ana moaned, the zesty taste of his breath mixing with hers. Christian cupped Ana's face, placing his tongue between her lips and into her mouth. Their tongues danced a sultry dance, moving slow and carnal circles around each other. She moved her hands up his biceps and around his shoulders, feeling the strong and tender sinews of his body. He was warm, the feel of his skin heating the centers of her palm. Water from his hair dripped onto her chest, rolling a path down the crux of her breasts.

He tentatively slid a hand underneath her shirt, feeling her cold, soft skin. She groaned, throwing her head back with her eyes closed tight in ecstasy. His hands drifted over her protruding ribs, rubbing small, gentle circles into her skin. He moved up even higher, feeling the smooth, fleshy skin of the underside of her breasts. Ana's breathing quickened, every inch of her skin prickling, anticipating his touch. The space between her thighs moistened, her skin alight with fiery desire. He cupped her left breast, softly and tenderly brushing his thumb against her hardened nipple. Ana moaned loudly, moving her chest further into the palm of his hand, his fingers skillfully poking and prodding.

Christian gently kissed the skin of her neck, his soft lips trailing across her flesh and leaving wildfires in its path. He darted out his tongue, licking and nipping at the side of her neck. Ana squeezed his shoulders, her hips and chest rising and falling with each movement he made. Nothing in her life had ever felt so good. Her body and mind spiraled uncontrollably, as if they were both in free fall, completely at the will of Christian's expertise. Christian's towel had fallen away from his hips, allowing Ana to feel his hard member as it pressed into the inside of her thigh. Her lower body tingled with excitement, small, sticky beads of moisture dripping down her thighs.

_This is wrong… _Ana's subconscious spoke to her. She moaned louder, drowning out every inhibition that rose within her body. She didn't want to be the good girl she always was. For once, she wanted to be wild and free, to submit to the passion that Christian alighted inside of her. She repositioned her body, spreading her legs slightly wider. Christian's hips fell in line with hers, his erection rubbing against her covered folds. Ana took a quick, lustful breath, pushing herself harder against him.

_You don't know what you're getting yourself into… _Her subconscious screamed, every inch of her rational mind begging her to stop. She had only known this man for two weeks - which he was an asshole for most of them - and he was her patient for God's sake. She had a duty to _protect _and _care _for him, not jump his bones.

"I don't care!" Ana screamed to herself, irritable and impatient. All she wanted was for her subconscious to shut the hell up and allow her to enjoy the moment.

"What?" Christian asked, his breathing heavier than usual. His eyes were a molten grey, passion burning bright within the orbs. He looked down at her, his expression confused yet lascivious at the same time. His hair hung slightly over his eyes, water droplets splashing onto Ana's flaming skin.

"Nothing, don't stop," she commanded, her lips colliding with his as she grabbed his arms and pulled him back on top of her.

His hands returned to their previous positions, more aggressive and eager than before. He had tested the waters, and now he was ready to dive in. He grasped the hem of Ana's scrubs, effortlessly lifting it over her head. He reached behind her, unclasping her bra. As her breasts fell free from their prison, she quickly wrapped her arms around herself, her cheeks and neck tinging pink.

"Stop," he whispered, softly removing her arms away from her torso, "You're beautiful."

She bit her lip, looking up towards the ceiling. Her lust was slightly dampened as her body filled with embarrassment, dreading the idea of him seeing her naked body. No one had seen her nude before, but of course she had to choose a domineering, inconsiderate asshole like Christian Grey to be the first man who did.

Christian trailed kisses from her jawline to her neck, rubbing his hands along the skin of her arms and stomach. He kissed her chest, then slowly worked his way to her breasts. His hot, warm mouth enclosed her raised nipple, causing Ana to call out in delight. She entangled her fingers in his hair, guiding his head as she pushed herself into him.

"I can't wait to be inside you," Christian moaned, his lips deathly close to her ears. He nipped at the skin of her ear, his hands pulling on the waistband of her pants.

Ana didn't feel as courageous as she had before.

Her heart sped up, but this time in trepidation. Her eyes opened, no longer in the blissful throes of passionate foreplay. Christian had pulled her legs out from the fabric of her pants, his fingers already tucked into the corners of her panties, ready to remove them.

"Wait," Ana protested, stopping his hands before they moved any further.

Christian halted his movements, his eyebrows furrowed. "Don't you want it?" He asked, confused.

Ana bit her lip, causing Christian to groan, gripping her thigh.

She nodded, "I do… But I've never done this before," she admitted, ashamed. She looked down, her cheeks a deep crimson. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to disintegrate into the floor tile.

He scoffed, "I've never had sex on the bathroom floor, either, but there's a first time for everything-"

"No," she interrupted, "I've never… Had sex before," she stated, her voice so low it was barely audible.

Christian froze, the expression on his face unreadable. He unhooked his finger from the waistband of her panties, placing one hard, calloused hand onto the floor tile. He placed his weight onto one arm, staring down at her intently.

"You're joking…" He declared.

She shook her head, her body alight with the harsh stinging of humiliation. She recovered her chest, no longer in a lustful stupor that caused her to be more bold than usual. She avoided eye contact with him, tears prickling her eyes.

_Why the hell was this so hard to admit?_

"How?" He demanded, his voice now harsh. His eyes hardened, his face stuck in a pensive expression. "You're twenty-one, you're beautiful…" He trailed off.

She shrugged. "I don't know… I guess I never found the right one," she laughed bitterly, counting the marks on the ceiling.

Christian sighed, rolling off of her. He winced as he snagged his ankle, the pain from his latest stint now setting in. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

Ana sat up, her eyes widening in wonder. "Why?" She asked, "You didn't do anything wrong. It was amazing…"

He ran both his hands through his hair, tugging desperately at the roots. He glared at her, disgust with himself slowly seeping into his body. "Don't you see? I took advantage of you… God, I was going to _deflower _you on a fucking bathroom floor."

She frowned. "I wanted you to. I still want you to," she pleaded, inching towards him.

"No, Ana," he scolded. "You're too good. You deserve something better… Someone better."

"But-"

"Please tell Ms. Jones to send up some clothes. I'll dress myself," he ordered, with a hint of finality, wrapping his fallen towel around himself once again.

Ana stared at him, incredulous. She was willing to give herself to him completely, but he had just rejected her. He didn't want her anymore. Her stomach filled with shame as she grabbed her shirt and quickly pulled it over her head. She collected the rest of her belongings, racing back to her room before he could see the tears fall down her face.

* * *

She hugged her legs to her chest, the warm water acting as a blanket of security. She let the liquid engulf her, cleansing her of the disgust she felt for herself and her actions. Her wet hair clung to her back, the strands of hair like vine wrapped around her skin. Christian had said that he took advantage of her, but really it was the other way around. He let her in, trusted her to take the utmost care of him, let her _touch _him… And she threw that trust back into his face. Yes, Christian was hard to deal with, but he was her _patient._ She turned their patient-caregiver relationship into that of a sexual one, which made her feel ashamed.

They both wanted it - that was clear - but it was up to her to not let it go anywhere. Gosh, she wouldn't have stopped if Christian rejected her. She felt so embarrassed with herself… Especially about the fact that she could _never _please him, no matter how hard she tried. He was skilled, mature, confident, while she lacked _all _of those attributes. She was sure he had multiple partners, while she didn't even have one. Did he really think that she deserved better, or was he completely turned off by the idea of an ignorant little virgin, clueless on how to touch and be touched?

She dashed away a tear that had escaped.

Ana hated herself in that moment. God, she was such an idiot! How did she expect to return back to a professional relationship after this? That man in the next room had seen her bare breasts - touched them even - and now she had to go change his bandages and massage his ankle like nothing had happened? It was impossible. She had ruined the last chance that she had to connect with Christian. He didn't want her sexually, and now he couldn't even have her professionally. She didn't bother wiping the tears away this time - they fell too fast and too hard.

_Elena was right…_

Ana pulled out the tub stopper, feeling the water slowly drain from around her. The loud, guttural sound of the exiting water oddly comforted her. At least something sounded more painful than how she felt.

* * *

"I need to change your dressing, Mr. Grey," she informed, her voice low and tentative. She didn't look at him, simply walked over to the medical cart and pulled out a new packet of bandages. "It's healing quite well," she added, trying to sound enthusiastic. Anything to cure the tension in the air.

"Oh… Okay," he responded, sitting up awkwardly. He had been reading a book, which he sat aside on his bedside table. He removed his reading glasses, setting them atop the book. She stole a quick glance at him, trying to gauge his expression. His face was impassive, not allowing her a look into his thoughts or emotions. She frowned, annoyed at how well he was at hiding his feelings.

She cautiously peeled off his bandages, wiping and cleaning the area thoroughly. "Does any of this hurt?" She asked.

Christian shook his head, surprised. "No, actually, it doesn't."

Ana smiled. "That's good, really good," she murmured, opening up a fresh packet, "your recovery is going well. There might be some mild scarring though."

He shrugged. "Nothing I'm not already used to."

She pursed her lips. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head, not divulging any further information. Ana wanted to scream, so fed up with his cold facade and mysteriousness. For once, she wanted him to be upfront with her - to completely tell her how he felt. Why did he even take an interest in her? And if he liked her as much as he said - and showed - why, oh, why did he turn her down? Did he really think that lowly of himself? Even Ana could admit that he was a good man. He was controlling, rude, insensitive… But there was just something about him that made you care. You _wanted_ to trust him, to open up to him… To give yourself away to him. Couldn't he see that he was worthy?

"Okay, if that's what you want," she said, no longer having the energy to question Christian or his words and thoughts. It was tiring, and she had had enough for the day.

She finished wrapping his wounds, discarding the old dressing in the trash bin. She took off her gloves and turned towards him, finally making eye contact for the first time ever since their bathroom tryst. "Is there anything else you need, Mr. Grey?" She asked, her voice devoid of any emotion other than expected politeness.

"I…" he started, but trailed off. "No," he finally answered.

She nodded, turning away, her heart slightly aching. She didn't want their relationship to be like this - filled with distant interactions and forced niceties. Although the past two weeks had been hell, she missed their banter, the passive-aggressive nature of their words and actions. It didn't feel the same, and she was scared that it never would again.

"Ana," he called out before she had fully emerged from the room.

"Yes, Mr. Grey?"

"I need… For what happened to not be a problem. Okay?" He asked, his eyes soft and vulnerable, a layer of his walls broken down.

"Of course," she lied, "why would it be?"

"I know that things didn't turn out the way you wanted, but it's not your fault - it's mine."

She nodded, turning around once again, eager to remove herself from his sight.

"If you're willing to forget the whole thing, then so am I."

"I'd want nothing more than to do that," she responded, actually meaning her words. The harsh embarrassment of the whole ordeal was too much to handle.

"Good," he chirped.

Ana placed her hand on the doorknob, one foot almost out of the door when Christian added one last sentence:

"And please don't think that I don't want you… I do. More than you could ever know… But I'm aware enough to know that sometimes you can't always get what you want."

* * *

**Did you enjoy? I hope so. Also, I've noticed that I have been updating at a much later time than usual. Is that okay with everyone, or are early-afternoon/late morning updates better? Reviews are appreciated.**

**-Xoxo**


	10. Chapter 10

The echo of her footsteps reverberated throughout the stark, empty house as she wandered around, searching for something not even _she_ could discern. She sighed lowly, her soft breath running through the strands of her side bangs.

She had retreated to the library after administering Christian's medicine, too ashamed to face him. She knew that it was silly, to be embarrassed over what had transpired. They were mature adults. Sometimes, things happen, but eventually you get over it - that's what adults do... Except Ana couldn't ignore the sting of rejection that bubbled up inside of her every time she looked at Christian.

Perhaps she felt that way because she truly cared about him, or perhaps she felt that way because finally, after twenty one years of waiting for Mr. Right to come along, she put herself out there and was met with a harsh dose of reality.

She lurked through the house, hiding from Christian and hiding from her problems, at least for the time being. Her job was not done, meaning that no matter how embarrassed she felt, she'd have to suck it up and deal with it. She hung her head low, peering at her white shoes as they glided across the pristine hardwood floor. She was angry at herself for being so foolish, to put herself in a compromising position with a patient. She knew better, but there was just something about Christian. Something about him that she couldn't understand.

"Do you need something, Ms. Steele?"

Ana lifted her head, pushing her hair out of her face. Mrs. Jones stood expectantly in front of her, her hair and uniform neatly in place. Ana groaned, she knew she didn't look near as put together as Christian's housekeeper.

"No, ma'am," she whispered, her fingers running across the wall adjacent to her. She pursued her lips, not sure of what to do. Obviously, Mrs. Jones was confused as to why Ana was not with Christian, doing her job of all things, and to why she looked so forlorn. Ana was far away from the overzealous, optimistic young nurse that she had been when she arrived to Christian's penthouse. Now, she wasn't sure exactly how to act.

"Is everything okay?" Mrs. Jones stepped forward, a kind and concerned look on her face. Ana felt flattered at her sympathy, but not in the mood to explain all of her troubles. She wasn't sure she even could, or that Mrs. Jones would understand.

"Yes, ma'am, everything is fine. I'm just about to swing up to Christian's room," Ana trailed off, spinning around on her heels to make a quick dash away from Mrs. Jones. She wondered if she looked unprofessional in the older woman's eyes. She had been working for Christian for how long? And she still managed to occupy every inch of her time to some duty that manifested itself. She didn't wander around the house like a coward.

"Ms. Steele, wait," she commanded, softly gripping onto Ana's elbow. Her olive skin contrasted against Ana's milky, white flesh, her touch causing blood to rise to the surface.

Ana stopped, turning to face Gail. She dropped Ana's elbow, anxiously ringing her hands. "I'm not sure if this is my place to say this..." She started, stopping the nervous movements of her hand to smooth down her apron. Mrs. Jones took a breath, her mouth hanging open indecisively, as if she were unsure whether to close it or push words out.

"I hope you two are not having problems," she continued. Ana took a step back, unconsciously placing a barrier between her and Gail. Ana had no intentions of addressing the situation ever again, much less with one of Christian's employees.

"We're not," Ana interrupted, crossing her arms. She smiled, no humor or geniality reaching her eyes. "I'm not sure why you would think that," she lied.

Mrs. Jones took another breath, nodding her head slightly. The small, plump woman looked up at Ana, a glint in her eyes that both scared and soothed the young girl. Her look screamed protection and empathy, two things that Ana desperately needed at the moment... But was it right coming from her?

"Of course, Ms. Steele, I mean no accusation; I only want the best for both you and Mr. Grey. I understand that he can be... Difficult to work with at times-"

_I'll say!_

"- but he is a compassionate man underneath his cold exterior. You simply have to keep digging," she concluded, eyeing Ana knowingly.

She frowned, enclosing her arms around herself. "I'm not sure what you mean," Ana admitted.

"Well, just... Don't be so easy to give up on him, or jump to conclusions about how he is feeling. He is a very complicated man, but believe me - he cares more than he lets on."

Mrs. Jones finished her speech with a warm smile, rubbing Ana's arm encouragingly. She pushed past her, off to do whatever other errands she had not finished. Ana wasn't sure how to digest the information. Should she be relieved? Be apathetic? Any type of relationship between Christian and herself could never be more than professional, simply because their personalities clashed. She had to admit that something about him drove her wild, but that was exactly the problem. Either she was mad with desire, or mad with frustration. There was no happy medium with them and a relationship like that is doomed.

"Mrs. Jones," Ana called softly, looking over her shoulders. "What made you say all of this to me?" She asked, completely confused on how either her or Christian had let on to what happened in the bathroom.

Mrs. Jones cleared her throat, shuffling slightly. "Although the house is expensive, the walls are very thin, Ms. Steele."

Ana blushed the color of fresh beets in the middle of spring.

* * *

"Okay, Mr. Grey, that's enough," Ana declared, looking at her watch. Even with a sprained ankle, Christian wanted to push himself to the limit. Ana couldn't even imagine putting in ten minutes of effort on that darned machine.

_Gosh, I'm out of shape._

"I can keep going," he argued, slightly out of breath. From the looks of it, Christian was used to much more vigorous exercise. Only one small bead of sweat rolled down the side of his head during the whole thirty minutes.

"Sure, but I'm not allowing that," she stated, powering off the treadmill. Christian rolled his eyes, sulking as he stepped off of the platform.

"That was barely a workout," he complained, "my ankle feels fine."

"That's great, but you're overdoing it. You've only been off of bed rest for a week, Sir."

Christian sucked his teeth. "C'mon, I feel great. Look," he gestured, jumping up and down on his injured ankle. "Doesn't even hurt."

"Mr. Grey!" Ana exclaimed, sighing and grabbing onto his arms. She halted his movements, glaring at him. "Don't come crying to me when your ankle is swollen tonight," she hissed. "Injuries take time to heal."

Christian groaned obnoxiously, dropping down onto the couch theatrically. "You're being such a killjoy today."

"And you're being overly excitable," Ana remarked. "Would you mind going back to your mean-spirited self?" She questioned, "he was much easier to ignore," she added under her breath.

"Why would you want to ignore me?" He asked, crossing his arms. The previous mirth evaporated from his face, a blank, hard expression taking its place.

Ana blushed. "What?" She asked.

"I heard you. Why would you want to ignore me?"

"Honestly? Because you're intimidating... And rude. And demanding and obnoxious and self-absorbed and materialistic," she rambled.

"Such sweet sentiments," Christian quipped.

"See, there you go," Ana stated softly, pointing at him. She turned away, trying to occupy herself with something in the room. She tried to do anything just to not have to face him.

"Well, that's not usually what you want to hear from someone who-"

He cut his sentence off, staring away into the distance.

"Who what?" Ana asked, slightly curious.

"Who happens to have all the qualities you wish for," he admitted, looking down at his hands.

Ana was shocked. Why would he want to be anything like her? She was a loser. He had a fulfilling career, he took control over every situation. Ana was just... Nice. Being nice isn't hard.

"Hmm, I wonder who you could be talking about," she murmured, rejecting his compliment. She walked several steps away from him, off into another section of his vast living room. She ran her hands over the keys of his piano, the sweet tunes resonating deep within her spirit.

"I can play for you," Christian suggested, the heat from his body radiating onto Ana's back. His breath tickled her ear, his warm, musky scent infiltrating the air around her.

Goosebumps appeared on her flesh, her heart slightly speeding up. They hadn't been this close to each other since the fateful events that occurred in the bathroom, for Ana was too embarrassed to even look in his direction.

"No, thank you," Ana whispered, her mouth dry. She stood frozen in place, too scared to move. Her body froze over with fear and desire, unsure of what Christian's next move would be. She feared he would touch her, but even worse, a small part of her hoped he would.

"I want to," he insisted, "make an old man happy."

Ana moved away, allowing him access to the piano, but he grabbed her arm at the last second. Ana jerked, Christian's hot flesh like a branding iron against her skin. She sighed and closed her eyes, hating and loving the feel of his skin on hers.

"Sit," he commanded, patting the space next to him.

Ana conceded, moving robotically onto the piano bench. She was afraid to talk, to breathe even. Nothing felt safe with Christian anymore. She didn't trust herself around him, didn't trust what she might say or do. Her body, mind, and soul craved him, even though she knew she shouldn't.

Christian's fingers glided over the piano keys, a soft, sweet lament echoing through the walls of Escala. Ana closed her eyes, feeling the music as the pitch ebbed and flowed. It was over too soon, her eyes springing open at Christian's abrupt halt.

She noticed he was looking at her, which made her blush. She looked away, turning her gaze towards the wall of windows, watching the clouds as they moved across the morning sky. "What was that called?" She asked, intrigued by the powerful piece he had played.

"Anastasia," he answered.

Ana raised her eyebrows. "By who?"

"Me. I just made it up now."

Ana gaped, astonished. "It was... Beautiful."

He shrugged. "I only played what I felt," he answered lowly. He raised his hand, sliding his finger across her cheek affectionately. Ana inhaled quickly, shocked and excited. She wanted to pull away, but her body leaned deeper into his embrace. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent.

He ran another hand through her hair, the soft strands falling effortlessly through his fingers. He leaned forward.

"No, not again," Ana sighed, pulling away. "I can't. You... You said you didn't want this."

She stood up, placing her arms around herself, each hand firmly grasping her shoulders. She shook her head, confused and irritated. Why was he playing with her emotions? Was it funny to him?

"I know," he admitted, standing. "But... I can't stay away from you. I don't know what it is."

"It's not right," she whispered.

"I've never done things right, and I turned out okay... For the most part," he argued, "why can't this?"

Ana bit her lip, conflicted with herself. She needed to face reality, not delude herself. It wouldn't work out because she was Anastasia Steele and he was Christian Grey, two completely different people with different views of the world. They clashed, they irritated each other, they disagreed on every single thing... But it all still felt right.


	11. Chapter 11

Frustration can drive you to do wild things; or, in Ana's case, _contemplate _doing wild things. Her feet hung over the end of the bed, her pink toenails grazing the wooden floor. She lied with her hands across her stomach, brown wisps of hair slightly covering her porcelain face. After what Christian had told her, she had a hard time staying sane. She had one job to do, but instead, she fucked it all up.

Made it complicated.

And now, she didn't know how to continue taking care of Christian without falling for him, without wanting to run her fingers through his hair and scrape her teeth across his bottom lip. Without wanting to curl up in his arms… Or confess how she felt about him.

So, considering she couldn't continue to do her job, she wouldn't.

Ana sat up, her hair slinking onto her shoulders. A mixture of pain and relief swelled through her body, as if she had just reset a broken bone. Getting herself caught up with Christian Grey was a mistake from the beginning - she had no idea why she decided to delude herself into thinking it actually might work.

They were two completely different people from two completely different worlds; not to mention the circumstances they had met each other under. The Ana she knew would never allow a relationship to develop between herself and her patient, but after living with Christian, she didn't really feel like herself anyway. She felt lost and confused - two things she never wanted to feel again.

So in that moment, she vowed to do everything in her power not to.

The only solution seemed to start directly at the source: Christian Grey.

* * *

"Hello, Mr. Grey. I'm assuming you're doing well?" Ana asked, straight to the point. Her no-nonsense attitude and body language suggested that she wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

Christian turned towards her, beads of sweat glistening across his forehead and neck. Christian had made a remarkable recovery, his ankle once again fully functioning and his chest wounds healing enough to have the bandages removed. His ribs would take a little longer to heal, however.

It seemed that he didn't really need Ana anymore, which is why it confused and angered her that she was even still around. Was he playing a sick game with her? Confess his true feelings, then once again run away and deny that they can be together? It had been a very hard two months for Ana, especially after the bathroom incident.

The once normal interactions between them became strained and awkward. The smallest of touches became eerily intimate. Simple, offhanded glances towards each other became soul-bearing. It was like a cat and mouse game and Ana just wanted it to stop.

Christian turned off the treadmill, walking in place until the machine whirred to a stop. He jumped down, grabbing a towel to wipe away his perspiration.

"Absolutely wonderful, Ms. Steele," he answered, smiling condescendingly at her.

Another unbearable development in their relationship was their hateful nature towards one another. After what Christian had told her at the piano, they both shut down. Ana couldn't trust him, not after what had happened between them, and _especially _not after all of the terrible thoughts Elena had put into her head. She had ungraciously put herself out there, only to have him push her away. Did she want a repeat offense from him? Most definitely not. It felt better to repel anything before it started, rather than to have it all thrown back into her face.

And as far as Christian's thoughts and feelings… Well, he didn't even know himself.

"Great," she chirped, "considering you've made such a _wonderful _recovery, I don't think you'll be needing me much anymore. You can consider this my official resignation," she stated, handing him a crisp sheet of paper.

Christian narrowed his eyes, taking the paper from her. His eyes barely glossed over the sheet before he shook his head, turning back around.

"No, you leave on _my_ terms. You're _my _nurse. The agreement I mapped out with your supervisor stated that I could cease medical care when I felt ready." He took three long gulps from his water bottle, Ana watching him intently, her arms crossed.

"Okay, you might've made an agreement, but you can't hold me here," Ana replied stubbornly.

"Oh, really?" Christian asked, an eyebrow raised. He stepped closer towards her. "There's a whole team of security behind that door-" he pointed towards the door that stood just before the entrance to the foyer - "and they're quite willing to meet my every demand."

"Wow, so you're threatening to hold me against my will? And you wonder why I'm so eager to leave."

Christian walked past her, his steps taking him upstairs towards his room. Ana followed him, determined not to let him once again declare her insignificant. For whatever reason, this man she had been coerced into working with seemed to think he could control anything and everyone.

He tried to slam his door shut, but Ana caught it with her hand. He spun around to face her, their bodies mere inches apart.

"I kindly donated my money in exchange for the utmost service, but maybe that turned out to be a mistake," He determined, his eyes ablaze with frustration and defeat. His hands were clenched at his sides, his body almost vibrating with anger.

"The only mistake is on your part," she demanded, "you think that the whole world revolves around you, but newsflash - it doesn't! I tried to be the best caregiver I possibly could, but your attitude is completely unbearable."

He crossed his arms, standing back. "I never promised to be bearable. Isn't it in your job description to deal with people of all types?"

"It is, and I did my job. Now I'd like to leave."

He shook his head, running a wayward hand through his hair. "You know, I thought you were doing an okay job - until you threw yourself at me, that is. Then, after completely making a fool out of yourself and I, you blatantly lowered your standard of care."

Ana gaped. "Are you serious? I've been working my hardest since I've gotten here."

"If that's your best, then I'm seriously disappointed, Ms. Steele," he sucked his teeth, "I'm starting to think my donation wasn't worth the service I received."

"Well, you already paid, so I guess you'll have to deal with it," she murmured, rolling her eyes.

Christian let out a short, bitter laugh. "See, but that's the thing - I haven't. I've agreed to release the full sum of money based on the condition that I was satisfied with my caregiver. Your precious hospital has only seen a tenth of my offering."

Ana frowned, her eyes widened in disbelief. She stepped back, her head swirling. "So what are you saying? If I leave you're not going to pay?"

"You could think of it that way."

"You're seriously going to skip out on funding cancer treatment research because I'm not some robotic bimbo who will just let you control her? Maybe you're right, maybe I _did _lessen my standard of care, but that's only because of your sick and twisted desire to play with my emotions. I almost gave _everything _to you, only to have you completely disregard me. That's going to mess with me a little. I can't stand for that anymore."

"I told you what I wanted weeks ago, you're the one who pushed away," he growled, his face contorted into a sneer.

"And I did because I know that nothing good can come of this. We're not… Compatible. And you know that," she declared.

He ran both hands through his hair, tugging at the strands as he went. He let his arms flop loosely to his sides, his chest rising and falling as he let out a long sigh. "If we weren't compatible, then neither of us would be drawn to one another."

"I'm not drawn to you," Ana lied, turning away from him.

"You and I both know that's not true," he rebuked, "Maybe we're not compatible in the sense that we'll have a white picket fence and two kids… But there's other ways."

Ana slowly turned to face him, her eyes staring cautiously at his. She bit her lip, her mind forcing her to walk away, but her heart keeping her firmly in place. "What are you talking about?"

Christian stepped towards her, his eyes glowing lasciviously. He pulled her chin, freeing her bottom lip from between her teeth. "What we have doesn't have to be conventional."

Ana frowned, her eyebrows furrowed. She couldn't grasp what he meant, nor was she sure she even wanted to. "I can't be with a patient, conventional or not."

Christian narrowed his eyes, then huffed resolutely. "Your hospital can have its money and you can be free from being my nurse… Only if that means I don't lose you."

"What if I don't want you?" Ana challenged.

"If you didn't, then you would've left a long time ago."

* * *

**This was short, but there's a whole lot more on the way.**

**Xx**


	12. Chapter 12

Pale purple light filtered in through her window. It was that time of morning where you couldn't discern whether it was day or night; the two lapses of time merging as one. The duvet was pulled all the way up to her chin, as if she was trying to hide from the reality of the decision she had to make. Her stomach dropped with despair and anticipation, her mind thinking of endless possibilities of how she could widdle her way out of the situation. Was it really as bad as she thought it was? After all, they hadn't done anything - well, not anything _necessarily _illegal - and Christian wasn't that bad… He was just himself.

_Self-absorbed, disrespectful, apathetic…_

No matter how hard she tried to deny it, Christian wasn't the type of guy she'd ever see herself with. He wasn't the type of guy she deserved. So, despite her heart screaming with agony, she rolled out of bed and gathered her clothes and belongings.

She was more nervous than sad, which was weird for her first break-up, if she could even call it that. She pondered over what the details of their relationship consisted of, anyway. Did she really mean anything to him? Or was he just bored and lonely? Ana wasn't really sure if she could even be considered his friend. The only things she knew about him were medical. She didn't even know his favorite color…

And he didn't know her's. She tried to remember if he knew anything about her, but then she realized that he had never asked. He had never showed any interest towards her other than wanting to peel her clothes off, and that's what tore Ana apart. She had let him in, let him see her at her most vulnerable point… And it seemed like it was all for nothing. He says that he wants her, but does he really? Or does he just want her body? Christian Grey wasn't the type to love and she knew that he would never love her… Even when she loved him.

She decided that she wasn't going to subject herself to that torture. She was intelligent, kind, caring… She didn't deserve to sell herself short based on feelings she had for a man that she knew would never appreciate her the way she wanted. It would never work and no amount of delusion would change that.

She only prayed that he was honest enough to still give the hospital his donation.

Her clothes and belongings were packed. She walked towards the door of her temporary bedroom and took a long, lasting look at what she had lived in for the past two months. It was a beautiful room, really, but she could only remember feeling such sorrow every time she crawled into bed at night. Either she was annoyed with the way Christian acted, or confused. One minute he wanted to be the happiest man on Earth, and then the other he pretended like she didn't exist.

How had she fallen in love with someone so conflicting?

_The heart wants what it wants…_

She took a deep breath, praying that Christian was still asleep and that Taylor would let her go peacefully. She knew that man was deeply devoted to Christian, but of course he had to understand where she was coming from. Ana was her own woman. She had the right to leave on her own terms.

She quickly and quietly picked up her suitcase as she descended the staircase, trying with all her might to not make a sound. Would Mrs. Jones be awake? As she remembered the sweet woman who was there for her throughout the duration of her stay, she felt guilty for not even saying goodbye or leaving a note.

_Should I? _She silently contemplated, then thought better of it.

She didn't have enough time, and even if she did, she knew that Mrs. Jones would understand. They were similar to each other - their minds worked the same. The kind woman wouldn't hold it against her for too long.

Ana stepped onto the pristine marble floor, debating whether or not she should set her suitcase down just yet. She didn't want the wheels to make too much noise, but realized it didn't matter at all once she saw the sight in front of her.

Christian was sitting at the piano, his face looking ashen and forlorn. The dull light from the rising sun glowing onto his skin. His 5 o'clock shadow glistened in the light, making him look tired and weak. His fingers brushed across the keys of the grand piano, his eyesight trained solely on the movements of his hands.

Ana wondered if he had seen her yet, or if it wasn't too late to make a quick dash upstairs and try again tonight. She silently stepped back, trying to inch away from him without drawing attention to herself.

"You're not stealthy," he murmured, his eyes still not raising from the keys of the piano.

His fingers quickened, playing an upbeat melody. The sound was soft and quiet, not even loud enough to be heard in the next room. Ana sighed, placing her suitcase down on the living room floor. She crossed her arms, wondering how their exchange would pan out. Would he threaten her some more? Or would he let her go freely… But with a price?

"Alright, you caught me," she acknowledged, resigning herself to her fate. She wasn't in the mood for a screaming match - she simply wanted to state how she felt and get out. Christian was almost fully well, he didn't need her anymore. There was no point in their constant battle, it wasn't getting them anywhere. They had to be adults and realize that whatever they had, it was now over.

"Not really," he disagreed, "you sort of outed yourself."

"Point taken," she grumbled. She walked closer to him, staring down at him play his favorite instrument. His fingers were so adept and graceful, so beautiful… It was almost painful to look at.

"I take it you're leaving me?" He asked, his voice nonchalant, refusing to allow her to know how truly hurt he felt. A small part of him was so upset because of his self-entitlement and utter need to get everything he wanted, but the larger, caring part of him wanted to hold on to this woman that made him forget who he was. Who made him feel worthy of something.

"I'm leaving this job," Ana clarified. "It has nothing to do with you…" She lied.

Christian's fingers pressed harder onto the keys, his jaw tightening. Soon, he replaced his hurt with anger. He did what he did best - shut people out. If she didn't want him, then so be it. He was Christian Grey, he didn't need to beg; but a part of him wanted to slide off of the piano bench, get onto his hands and knees and plead for her to stay.

Would he admit that? Hell no.

"And I take it that you still want your money?" He asks, once again his voice hard and apathetic.

"It's not my money. It's for the hospital. I don't need anything from you at all, really."

Christian stopped playing, his hands falling into his lap. He stared up at her, his eyes narrowed. "Are we really going to play this game?"

"What game?" Ana asked, rolling her eyes.

He stood up, so abruptly that it startled Ana. She gasped, wanting to step back, but also wanting to throw herself into his arms. He was mere inches away from her, close enough for him to wrap himself around her. She could smell him - the faint hint of lavender and honey cascading off of his body and wafting into her nose. Why was everything about him so alluring? It really pissed her off.

"Pretending like we want this to end," he answered, his eyes alight with anger and frustration.

His hands balled into fists, his skin growing warm with his intense emotions. He tried to fight it - tried to fight caring about her, making himself weak to her charm, but it was so damn hard. Everything about her, from her small quirks, her willingness to deal with his bullshit, her positive and fun attitude, made him want to have her for himself. Unlike with every other woman he had taken interest in, he wanted her for reasons other than sexual attraction. It was an alien feeling and he didn't know what to do about it; so he got angry.

"I do!" Ana exclaimed, matching her anger with his. She couldn't hold back her feelings anymore. She had allowed this man to pry his way into her heart and mind and she was furious about it. He had rejected her, then said he wanted her, then shut her out again. She couldn't deal with the mood swings and the heartache. Enough was enough. "I am _so _sick and tired of this mind game you're playing with me. One minute you're hot, the next you're cold. I let you in… I gave myself to you and all you care about is controlling and using me."

"What?" Christian bellowed, utterly offended. "You think that's what I want?"

"Isn't it? You threaten to skip out on your donation unless I do what you want. Someone who cared about me wouldn't do that," she argued.

Christian laughed bitterly, shaking his head. He ran both hands through his hair, tugging roughly on the ends. He wanted to rip his hair out, to scream out how ridiculous her thoughts were. "Can't you see? I care too much! Do you think I'd fucking waste my time if it was all about _using _you? There are girls I could pay to objectify," he growled.

"I don't care…" Ana whispered. "I just want to leave," she sighed, turning away. Her head hung low.

Christian pulled her arm and forced her to face him, his eyes searching her's. He looked desperate, like an addict looking for their next fix. He could feel her slipping through the cracks and it terrified him. He was scared that he let himself feel again only to have it thrown back in his face.

"Why do you keep saying that? Why won't you just try?" He pleaded, grabbing on to her biceps and lightly shaking her.

"Because you'll never be what I need," Ana cried out, her eyes prickling with the harsh realization. "I need stability, freedom, reassurance…"

"I can do that-"

"Oh, please. Elena told me what you're really like. You get bored easily. You spring from girl to girl."

Christian looked down, letting go of her arms. He sighed, "Elena doesn't know what she's talking about."

"No, I think she does… And you do too. Be honest, Christian. Were you interested in a relationship or just sex?"

He clicks his tongue, breathing harshly. "Would it be wrong to say I wanted a sexual relationship?"

Ana shook her head. "See? We want different things… I can't allow myself to get hurt."

"I would never hurt you, I wouldn't do anything you don't want to do."

"I know," she acquiesced.

"Then please just try," Christian whispered, stepping closer. He was hesitant, completely unsure of her next reaction.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I love you and I know you'll never love me," she admitted, tears streaming down her face. Her heart felt like it just exploded, the sheer agony of allowing him to know her true feelings seeping in. She wanted the floor to swallow her up, or at least to drop dead right then and there so she didn't have to deal with the embarrassment of telling Christian Grey she loved him.

She didn't look up for a long while, until she felt Christian moving towards her. The expression on his face was not what she expected. It was pained… Fearful. She frowned, sure that he would be disgusted and upset with the mess he had gotten himself into.

He gingerly cupped her face in his hands, pressing their foreheads against one another's. He sighed deeply, sorrow escaping from within the confines of his chest.

"Ana…" He groaned, pulling her closer. "That's wrong."

She pulled away, confused. "Why would that be wrong?"

"Because I'm not… I'm not a good person. You even said so yourself."

"I never said that," she refused, "I said we weren't right for each other."

"You're probably right," he resigned, inching away. "Look at the mess I already caused."

"How is me loving you a mess?"

"Because you're too good."

"Can't you see that you're not a total monster?" She yelled, hurt that he would think so lowly of himself. "If you were a terrible person I would've never fell in love with you."

"I'm sorry that you did," he muttered, his eyes looking at the ground. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Ana stormed towards him, pulling at the fabric of his shirt. Her eyes began to water once again. "You're such an idiot, you know that?" She asked, enraged and broken all at the same time.

Christian grabbed her arms, pulling her closer. His lips crashed down on hers, rough and domineering. Ana kissed back, intertwining her body with his. She couldn't hold it back any longer. She had tried for weeks to deny herself of what her body and heart wanted, but with everything out in the open, she couldn't fight it anymore.

They groped each other, pulling angrily at one another's skin. Their interaction was passionate and primal, all logic thrown out the window. They knew what they were doing would only cause more pain, but they couldn't stop. It had taken every ounce of will that Christian had, to live with her under the same roof and not make a move. They had denied themselves of their desire for one another for long enough.

Christian picked Ana up, his hands sliding underneath her shirt. His skin on her's alighted an even deeper passion within her. She wrapped her legs around him as Christian made their way up the stairs, surely to finish what they started that fateful day in the bathroom.

* * *

Ana admired his tan, smooth skin. Every inch of his skin was completely perfect, not a blemish on it - exception being his chest. His wounds that were so large and angry just two months ago, were now closed and fading. They would scar for sure, but the pain was gone. It was amazing to think of how far they had come. Two months ago Christian was nothing but a stranger, just someone being wheeled into their hospital because of a motorcycle accident. Now… He was someone she loved. Someone who had deflowered her.

It was a very fucked up situation.

She took in his serene expression as he slept. In his slumber he didn't have to hide who he was, to put on the facade of a cold, narcissistic man in order to shut everyone out. He could just be…

It warmed Ana's heart, but also made her feel cheated. He was never like this with her, and she didn't think he would ever be. As she slinked further into the satin sheets, the bedspread caressing her naked skin, she felt a strange sense of finality after the whole ordeal. Nothing they had done had changed the circumstances. Christian was still going to be who he was and Ana was still going to want something he couldn't give her.

She closed her eyes. It also dawned on her that he hadn't said he loved her back. She sighed, crawling out of the bed and reaching for her clothes. She placed them on slowly, half hoping that Christian would wake up and tell her to stay, but another more logical part of her realizing that this was the right thing to do. They couldn't have each other - they both knew that; but at least this way, Christian would have a part of her that no man ever would.

_They always say the first time should be with someone you love…_

Ana slinked down the stairs and collected her suitcase. Before leaving, she grabbed a sheet of paper out of her purse along with a pen.

_**I don't regret what happened. I'm glad it did, but it doesn't change anything. I'm sorry. I wish things were different. **_

_**-Ana **_

She placed the note on the kitchen counter and made her way towards the foyer. As she waited for the elevator, she anticipated Taylor's intrusion, but it never came. Perhaps even he knew that things had come to an end.


	13. Chapter 13

"Are you Miss Anastasia Steele?"

Ana turned around, her stomach dropping. She pursed her lips as she acknowledged the delivery man in front of her. She nodded, taking a bouquet of red roses he handed to her. She didn't even need to look at the card to know who they were from.

Christian had been sending her bouquets for the past two weeks, which would've been endearing if she wasn't trying to scrub his memory out of her brain. Her heart still ached at the fact that they didn't have a future together, and Christian was making it worse by trying to contact her every day.

Couldn't he take the hint?

Ana pretended to be completely annoyed by the latest delivery, but she couldn't deny the fact that her heart swelled every time she received a new bouquet. Even if she knew they would never work out, it was still reassuring to know that he still thought about her, especially after the events that unfolded before she left, but she hated herself for it.

_Maybe he did like me for more than my body…_

She halts the thoughts before she fully deludes herself into contacting him. The past two weeks had been the hardest in her life. It was so strange to wake up in her own bed, in her own home, without Christian to keep her company. She felt so lonely and empty inside, which made her feel even more pathetic. She had only known Christian for two months; how had she possibly fallen hopelessly in love? And even worse, why did she feel like she couldn't function without him? Ana prided herself on being truly independent, but now she felt like she was reduced to a blubbering, insecure, lonely little girl.

It was truly sickening.

"Alright, are you going to tell me who your mystery man is, or should I just assume that you're sending these to yourself?" Kate murmured, appearing next to Ana.

She rolled her eyes, walking to her station and placing the bouquet on her desk. She took a deep breath, turning towards her best friend that followed her down the hallway. "I told you, it's no one important," Ana insisted, biting her lip.

Kate sucked her teeth. "Yeah, I don't think so. It's been happening for two weeks, Ana. Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Not yet," Ana admitted, crossing her arms. No one knew about what transpired between her and Christian, and she wasn't sure that it would be a good idea for anyone to ever find out. She wasn't sure what it would do for her reputation as a healthcare provider.

"Does this have anything to do with that guy-"

"Leave it alone, Kate," Ana demanded. Kate nodded, her eyes filled with concern and shrewd curiosity.

"Whatever is going on, I'm here for you, Ana," she promised, placing her hand on her shoulder. Ana always knew that somewhere underneath her cold and callous exterior, Kate was a caring person. She pulled her into a hug, thankful that despite how hard of a time she was having, there was still someone there to support her.

"Thanks for being my best friend," she whispered, hugging Kate tightly. Her eyes prickled and soon warm, fat tears began to spill over onto her cheeks. She sniffled slightly, praying that Kate wouldn't see how hopeless she felt. To her chagrin, Kate pulled away and stared down at her worryingly.

"Oh my gosh, Steele, what is going on with you? I've never seen you like this," she stuttered.

Ana shook her head, brushing off her concern. "I'm just… Stressed. And sleep deprived. Honestly, I'm fine," she lied.

"Bullshit… But if you need time I'll give it to you," she acquiesced.

Ana sighed, thankful that Kate would no longer push the subject. If she were being completely truthful, it pained her to think about Christian, much less talk about him. The only reason she was surviving was by pretending he didn't exist. It wouldn't work as a long term solution, but until then she wanted to continue to believe that the situation would eventually fade away into oblivion.

As if she were that lucky.

* * *

She crossed the threshold of her apartment, content to finally be home. After a long day of work and trying to deal with the throbbing hole in her heart, she was completely exhausted. In the crux of her left arm rested the bouquet of red roses. She wanted to curse at herself for not immediately throwing them out, but it was her only connection to Christian. She cringed at how desperate she must've seemed, but decided to ignore her inner thoughts and find a vase to hold the fourteenth batch of flowers.

She sighed at the sight of her dining room. There were thirteen vases, each mix matched considering she had to buy a new case each time he delivered her more flowers. Two of the sets were dying, so she threw them out and used one of them to place the newest addition.

Her dining room looked like a tiny flower shop, which was both amusing and annoying. She pulled out the latest card Christian had sent, eager to see what he wrote, but scared at the same time. What if eventually he got tired of her ignoring him? What if this was his message saying he was moving on? A guy only chases a girl for so long…

She took a deep breath, opening the envelope and reading its contents.

_**Dear Anastasia,**_

_**I hope you are doing well. This is my fourteenth message to you - and I hope it will be my last. The fourteenth time's the charm, right? I think we ended on a sour note; I'd like to clear things up. How about dinner at the Palisade tomorrow at 7?**_

_**Best Wishes,**_

_**Christian**_

Ana had the urge to roll her eyes. He believed things ended on a sour note? A sour note? Things started _out _on a sour note! She was disgusted by his audacity. How dare he make plans so brazenly, as if he thought she would come crawling back to him so easily? She laughed bitterly. There would be no dinner she attended tomorrow night and she most definitely would not be contacting Christian anytime soon.

Her heart panged with her sudden resolve. A small part of her wanted to cave and rush to see him, but she realized that would be a terrible idea. He was the exact person she _didn't _need in her life, no matter how badly her body and heart wanted him. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered what transpired before she left him. Christian was the only person she wanted to do _that_ with, and even worse, he was the only person she could imagine giving herself to in that way.

It completely puzzled her. He had no appeal whatsoever, other than the fact that he was strikingly good looking. He was a rude, obnoxious, selfish individual… But he drove her crazy. There was just something there that made her love him. Maybe it was the way he would look at her sometimes, like she was the only person in the world. Or maybe it was his smile - something so rare and beautiful it made her crave more of it. Or maybe it was the way he opened up to her more than anyone she had seen him interact with. Out of the whole hospital staff, he chose her. It made her confused… It made her feel special.

She sighed, not emotionally strong enough to stay up wondering what Christian Grey's true intentions were. She threw the card in her kitchen drawer, shut off all the lights in her house, then changed into an oversized shirt and wrapped herself in her bed covers. With her alone with her thoughts and feelings, she realized how truly hollow she felt. That night there was no sound in her bedroom other than the whisper of her tears hitting her pillow case.

* * *

She stared at the clock, anxiety creeping into her body like a snake roaming through grass. She sat on her couch, a bottle of cheap, red wine in one hand, while a half empty glass of wine was gripped in the other. She filled up her glass, then placed the bottle on her coffee table. The blaring of the TV was her only comfort, as it helped her forget the minutes that were slowly ticking by. She glanced at the clock - 6:30.

Her body tingled with dread and anticipation. Damn Rosa for not letting her take her shift tonight. At least with her preoccupied with work, she wouldn't have to think of the repercussions of standing Christian up. Would it anger him? Embarrass him? Convince him to pretend like Ana never existed? The latter should've made her feel better - then he'd finally leave her alone; but she secretly hoped he never would. She wanted him to confess his love for her, to tell her that he's changed… But she knew it would never happen. The thought was sobering.

She tried to focus on whatever insignificant program was on the television, but she couldn't stop thinking about Christian sitting alone in that restaurant. Was it cruel to completely ignore him? She could stop by and tell him that it was completely over between them. Or, they could just agree to be friends.

_No, that would never work. Friends aren't supposed to want to jump each other's bones!_

What if another woman showed up to keep him company? What if they end up having sex? What if he falls in love with her?

Ana slammed her glass down, standing up to pace around the room. She felt like a mad woman. It angered her profusely, how he could wield so much control over her emotions. She had other options, why did she have to obsess over someone who was unattainable?

She placed her head in her hands, screaming into the folds of her skin. The sound was muffled, barely rising above the sound of the television.

_Keep it together, Steele._

She sighed loudly, pacing around the room some more. It was helping to calm her nerves, but she still bit her lip anxiously as she stared at the clock. It was nearing seven, which made her stomach do backflips. She had to strain to keep bile from rising in her throat.

She decided that she would do dishes. Yeah, that would keep her busy - and best of all, there were no clocks in the kitchen. She grabbed her wine glass and headed towards the sink, filling one side of it with soapy water. The rhythmic motion of cleaning dishes helped to ease her anxiety. Soon, she forgot all about her dinner date and the time that was passing by.

Until there was a knock at her door, that is.

She stopped cleaning, puzzled on who could be at her door at 7:30 at night. She wiped her wet hands on a dish cloth, apprehensive to answer the door. Two of her friends were currently working, while the other was busy managing the finishing touches of his upcoming art exhibit. Could it be her parents? She shook her head. They wouldn't drive to see her in the middle of the night.

She walked towards the front door and gingerly looked through the peephole. The sight caused her knees to buckle.

Behind her door stood Christian Grey, who looked every bit as pissed off as he seemed. His arms were down at his sides, with one hand carrying a take-out box. His lips were pursed, his eyes hard and annoyed.

Ana debated on what she should do. Perhaps she could pretend like she wasn't home, but then realized that wouldn't be possible considering all the lights were on and her television blared loudly throughout the house. She thought that she could just outright ignore him, but then realized that wouldn't be an option either. Christian Grey was a whole different kind of stubborn - she wouldn't put it past him to sit out there all night.

"Go away," she yelled through the wall. "This is harassment."

Christian rolled his eyes. "Uh, no actually, it's _persistence_," he countered. "Please open the door, Ana."

"I thought we agreed that whatever we have isn't going to work out," she answered, her heart beating erratically. A part of her was jumping with joy at the fact that Christian was merely ten feet away from her, while the other part was cowering with fear.

"Yeah, that's what we need to talk about. Please let me in."

Ana stood before the door, nervous and excited. She wasn't sure what to do, or how to avoid being hurt in the process. Turning Christian away would just result in more heartache - which she had enough of for the past two weeks - and opening the door would allow her to be put into a position where she's used and misled… Again. Could she stand to go through that?

"Ana, please. I'm begging you," he said softly, his voice pained. Ana gasped quietly, shocked by the tone of his voice. Had these two weeks been as hard on him as they had been on her? They couldn't have been. He didn't love her.

"What makes you think you can just waltz back into my life? I don't deserve these mind games you're trying to play," she yelled, trying to push him away. She wasn't sure if she was being brave or being a coward.

"You're right," he answered. "And that's why I'm here."

Ana bit her lip, torn and confused. Her heart was pleading with her to let him in, to allow him to say whatever mumbo jumbo he could so that they didn't have to face the fact that they weren't compatible _whatsoever. _Her mind was yelling at her to not be an idiot, to grow a backbone and stand her ground. She didn't deserve the treatment that Christian Grey would give her. And her body was screaming for her to pull him inside and to let him ravish every inch of her body.

"You have five minutes," she muttered, defeated. As she opened the door, a dreadful feeling snuck its way into her body. She felt like she had cheated herself.

"I don't think five minutes is going to be enough time to explain myself," he argued, stepping inside. He lifted up the takeout box, dangling it in front of her face. "I knew you wouldn't show, so I got this instead. I did promise to feed you, after all."

"I'm not hungry," she said.

_Not hungry for food…_

"I like your apartment. It's very… Homey," he replied, changing the subject. "The carpet is very clean-"

"Why are you here, Christian?" Ana answered, rolling her eyes.

He sighed, placing the food on the coffee table. "May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the couch. Ana nodded, watching his every move with crossed arms. "You might want to take a seat as well," he added.

"Why?" She asked.

"Because what I'm about to tell you… Not many people know about it. And it might scare you."

Ana bit her lip, her eyes wide. Now she was totally regretting her decision to let him in. Christian groaned in response to her movements. "Please don't do that," he whispered. "You know what it does to me."

Ana released her bottom lip from between her teeth, then sighed dramatically. "Just please get on with it, Christian."

He took a deep breath. He prayed that opening up to her would be for the better, but he had a sinking feeling that it would only make her hate him. "I'm a sadist, which means that inflicting pain onto women gives me sexual gratification. I also actively practice BDSM. My heart and body are extremely attracted to you, but I have issues. Deep seated ones. I can't open up to people… I can't love. I've never done relationships before. These feelings are new to me. Half the time I don't know whether I want to tie you up or hold you in my arms," he rambled, saying everything quickly. He placed his hands in his lap, his eyes trained on her every move. He was anxious - deeply afraid of her reaction.

Ana's face stayed completely blank, her body not moving an inch. She stared at him, wondering who the hell she had gotten herself involved with.

"Why do _I _always attract the crazies?" She mumbled to herself.

* * *

_**This is just a lead-in to the next chapter. From here on out, things are going to get **_**very _interesting. Also, it's my birthday tomorrow (or today, considering its 12 AM) so I thought I'd share it with you guys. I'm betting half my friends won't remember haha._**

**_Xx_**


	14. Chapter 14

"You're joking, right?" She asked, completely convinced this was some sick game he was playing.

Christian ran a hand through his hair, his eyes not meeting her's. It had been years since he felt as awkward and exposed as he did now. He wrung his hands, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. He felt regret, assured that letting her know his secret had caused _more _problems instead of alleviating them. Would she think he was a freak? He sure sounded like one. Felt like one.

"No," he answered quietly, still looking down. His stomach twisted, small pangs of anger and embarrassment coursing through his body. He felt completely unmasked in front of this mousey, awkward girl, who had the power to intrigue and enliven him - so much so that he confessed his darkest secret to her, only to have her shocked and disgusted by him. It was mortifying; and he was enraged by the fact she had so much power over him that he actually _cared _what she thought.

Ana let out a small giggle. Of all the possible secrets he could be harboring, the biggest and darkest one he had was that he's a sex sadist? It was outlandish; completely comical - and completely devastating. Her heart plummeted with the realization. This man whom she had grown to love had an urge to _beat _her. He got off on inflicting pain on others… How could he ever love her back?

"So what, you're _ashamed _of me now?" He growled, his fists tightening. He stood up, letting his anger mask his hurt. He wanted to flee, to never speak or think of Ana again. He could forget this whole ordeal. He could forget that their time together was one of the best of his life. He could forget how she made him feel.

Ana backed away slightly, frightened by his change in demeanor. What had she done to anger him? Was he expecting her to be fine and dandy with his confession, to welcome him with open arms? That wasn't possible for her. The things he enjoyed doing weren't possible to her.

"Why?" She blurted out, ringing her hands.

Christian frowned. "Why what?"

"Why are you like this?" She breathed, her chest tightening, "why did I fall for someone like this…"

He crossed his arms, trying to control his heart rate. So she _was _ashamed of him, and that made him want to explode. "Explaining why I do the things I do would be a long and drawn out process," he barked, "and I faintly remember I only have five minutes to explain myself to you."

"Those five minutes are most likely up."

"So you want me to leave?" He asked, his tone becoming colder. He immediately started to distance himself from her, to shut her out and never let her back in. "Do you know how hard this was for me?" He growled.

"Do you know how hard it was for me to say that I love you and to not hear it back?" She shouted, rage shooting through her veins. She covered her mouth, shocked by her outburst. She bit her lip and looked down, her cheeks reddening, her anger dissipating. "Obviously, we both lead _very _different lives and feel _very _differently about one another, so maybe you should leave."

"You think that is what this is about?" He asked, shocked and appalled. "I don't want you because of my lifestyle, Ana. I told you about what I do because I need you to understand…"

"To understand what?"

"Why I can't say what you want me to," he answered with a tone of finality. They both wanted each other, but not under the same circumstances. It was impossible for Christian to have a vanilla relationship, to be the 'model' boyfriend a girl like Anastasia wanted; but he still needed her. They needed each other.

"Well that's it, then, isn't it?" She said, turning away from him. "The door is over there."

"Why does it mean so much to you?" He pleaded, grabbing her arms, forcing her to look at him. "I'm telling you I want you, why does those three words matter so much?" His eyes bored into hers, grey orbs meeting blue orbs. He looked desperate, saddened, and broken down. It was a complete transformation from the man she had met two months ago.

"Because," she spat, shoving him away, "without those three words I'm no different than any of those other girls you've been with. Without those three words, it makes it okay to _beat _me. Without those three words I'm just… Someone you know."

"That's how you feel? You think I'll treat you like my subs?"

Ana furrowed her eyebrows. "What do deli-meat sandwiches have to do with any of this?"

Christian rolled his eyes. "Sub is short for submissive. I'm a dominant."

Ana stared blankly at him. He sighed, "It doesn't matter about the terminology, Ana, what matters is that you _are _different to me. If I didn't care, I wouldn't be trying so hard for you to trust me… To give me a chance. Those three words are just words. They don't change how I feel."

"Yeah, that's the point," she rebutted.

"I feel… Attraction to you. Not just sexual, but emotional. I… like how you treat me. I'd like to treat you like that, too. If you'll let me," he stated, awkwardly trying to explain how he felt about her. He was never good with opening up, never good with explaining himself. He couldn't blatantly tell her that he had never felt this way about any woman - about anyone in general. He couldn't tell her that she made him contemplate what it would feel like to have a normal relationship. To go to the movies, to hold hands…

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "How would this even work?"

"I don't know. I've never done this before."

"Me neither… And if I'm being truly honest, this scares me. _You _kind of scare me.'

"Why?" He asked, his heart panging in a way he was unfamiliar with.

"Because you're the polar opposite of everything I know. You're not predictable, you're not passive… You're not safe."

"That can be a good thing," he argued, not even believing himself.

"Not for me," she responded.

He took a deep breath and crossed his arms. He felt like pulling his hair out. Anastasia was so _frustrating_. It was like up was down and down was up with her. He couldn't tell what she wanted from him, despite that he was blatantly throwing himself at her.

"Alright, then that means we're done?" He huffed, his resolve chipping. Christian was not a patient man; it seemed like Ana was dragging out the whole ordeal.

"Weren't we already done?"

"Not if it was up to me," he mumbled, pushing past her. "Enjoy your dinner."

Ana's stomach churned as she watched him walk away. She suddenly felt panicked, like a cornered animal. Was she being overly stubborn? Was she deliberately pushing him away? She bit her lip, debating with herself on what to do next.

"Answer one question," she called out, hoping he would turn around. To her satisfaction, he turned, half of his body facing her. His right hand gripped the doorknob, while one of his feet stood in the threshold of the door.

"What is it, Ana?"

"How many other people have you had this talk with?"

"None," he answered, not missing a beat. He had tried to stress how out of character it was for him to open up to someone, but it seems she had missed the point.

"Then… What do you want? From me?" She asked, wrapping her arms around her torso. She felt shy all of a sudden, not like the harsh and stubborn girl she had been a minute ago.

He turned all the way around, shutting the door. His arms dropped to his sides as he shrugged. "I don't know… What do you want from me?"

"I don't know," she replied. They stared at each other, both of them trying to read the others' mind. They were two completely different people, with not much in common. They came from different worlds, they viewed the world differently; but for some reason, they felt like doing anything just to keep each other around.

"We could wing it…" Christian suggested, inching closer towards her. His feet softly shuffled against the floor, his eyes roaming over the curves of her body.

Ana's heart sped up, a rose colored flush emerging over her cheeks and neck. She didn't move away from him, instead she anticipated what would happen once his body was near her's. "I guess that's what we've been doing all along, isn't it?" She whispered, breathless.

He stood before her, peering down at her between his lashes. He reached out to run a hand across her cheek. Ana sighed contently, leaning into his touch. She felt like she had cheated herself. She had made a promise two weeks ago that she would forget about Christian and their complicated relationship, but here she was… Right back where she started.

She grabbed his hand, halting his movements. "If we do this, am I going to regret it?" She asked.

"Not if it's up to me."

* * *

_**Thanks for reading.**_

**_Xoxo_**


	15. Chapter 15

Her eyes were closed, but she could feel her skin prickle as his fingers trailed across her skin. A tingly feeling emerged in the pit of her stomach, almost like she was excited and scared at the same time. She didn't want to open her eyes because she didn't want to face the reality of her situation - that she had willingly crawled back to where she started.

"What would my mother think of me?" She groaned quietly, trying to ignore the feeling of his hands on her.

"That you're beautiful," Christian responded, sitting up on his elbow to look down at her, "and smart," he added, kissing the side of her neck. Ana gasped, a warm sensation spreading over her body. She bit her lip, silencing herself and cursing her body for reacting. Christian softly brushed his lips over her jawline, leaving sweet pecks across her face. "And that you're a slut," he finished, nipping at her earlobe.

Ana's eyes flew open, her mouth wide in astonishment. She glared at Christian, a playful and devilish smirk on his face. She punched his arm, turning away from him and wrapping her arms around herself.

Christian laughed, the deep timbre of his voice echoing throughout her apartment. Her kissed her shoulder blade as he draped his arm around her waist. "I'm just kidding," he whispered, pulling her closer, "you're the furthest thing from that."

"Really? Am I?" She retorted, pulling away from him. She sat up, quickly pulling her shirt over her naked chest. "Because the way I see it, I'm naked and on the floor - for the second time, might I add - with a man who doesn't even know my middle name, much less who loves me," she spat, running her fingers through her hair. She sighed, convinced that she looked a mess. She was just a mess in general; she didn't know what she was doing with herself. Her emotions changed like night and day - too much so that she couldn't keep up anymore. She didn't know what she wanted and she couldn't understand why she felt the way that she did.

"It's Rose," he said.

"What?" She asked, turning towards him. She frowned, forcing herself to look him in the eyes - and _only _the eyes.

"Your middle name is Rose. Your birthday is September 10, you have an undying love for literature, and your favorite color is blue," he stated, staring deeply at her. His eyes were hooded and serious, intense even.

"You could've done a Google search," she grumbled, staring down at her hands. She twisted and prodded at her fingers, biting her lip as she remained immersed in her thoughts. She couldn't trust Christian or his intentions even though she desperately wanted to. He was miles away from the type of man she thought she'd end up with, but she didn't know if that was a bad thing.

It probably wasn't good, though.

One minute he would be cold and demanding, then he would be sweet and endearing. It was hard to keep up with, and it made her question what he really wanted. What he really felt. If it was so easy for him to switch emotions, couldn't he switch what he wanted from her just as easily?

"Why would I need Google when the answers are right in front of me?" He questioned, cocking his head to the side. "You're more interesting than you think, and I notice a lot more than I put on."

"That doesn't change anything," she argued, "I still don't know what exactly you want out of this… Relationship. If I can even call it that," she scoffed.

"I just want… You," he mumbled. "Is that hard to believe?"

"Yeah, actually, it is. Based on your _lifestyle, _I hardly believe that you want to talk about the meaning of life, cuddle, and have boring missionary sex," she hissed.

"It was boring?" He asked, slightly offended.

Ana rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean, Christian. I can't keep up with what you do, and I know you'll get tired of this eventually. What happens when you get an urge? Are you gonna up and leave? Are you going to _hit _me?" She whispered, her voice squeaking. She continued to look down, too embarrassed and nervous to see his reaction.

Christian laughed bitterly, anger seeping into his pores. His hands balled into fists as he forced himself to take a deep breath. "It doesn't work like that, Anastasia," he growled. "What I do is pleasurable for _both _parties. I'm not a woman beater!" He exclaimed. "I wouldn't do that to you if you didn't want it."

"I can't believe that someone would enjoy being hit," she countered, her resolve slightly withering under his harsh stare.

"Yeah, well, believe it," he snapped. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. He reached for his shirt, slipping it over his head. He quickly pulled up his pants, buttoning them as he stared down in Ana's direction. She looked small and weak, her face contorted into an expression of confusion and hurt. Christian crouched down to her level, placing his hand on her chin and forcing her to look at him. "If you need time to think, that's okay - but don't shut me out, Anastasia."

"Isn't that what you're doing to me?" She asked, her voice pained. "I don't know who or what you are, Christian. It's scary."

He let her go, standing up to pull at his hair. "I know," he answered.

"How is that fair? How is it that you get to know all of my thoughts and secrets and I get nothing from you?"

"It's hard for me-"

"Oh, yes, I know!" She yelled, her voice bitter and sarcastic, "It's hard for you to open up, it's hard for people to see the _real _you. Do you want to know what's hard for me? Giving myself to someone who can't and won't have the decency to clue me in on what I'm getting myself into."

"Fine!" He snapped, his eyes lit with rage. His grey orbs were hard and deranged, his frustration over the past few weeks finally exploding. "You want to know what you're getting into?" He hissed, kneeling down to get her to face him.

"My mother was an addict and a prostitute who was too high and selfish to even feed her own son, not to mention to protect him from her abusive pimp who could never find an ashtray," he growled, pulling his shirt off, exposing his bare chest. Underneath the scars from his accident, Ana could faintly make out the appearance of small, white marks that were scattered across Christian's torso.

"This one," he hollered, pointing to a mark on the left side of his chest, "was because I spilled juice on the floor. This one," he seethed, "was because I didn't use my 'inside voice.'"

Ana's eyes prickled, disgust and anguish settling in the pit of her stomach. She could feel bile rise in her throat as she heard of what happened to Christian.

"This one," he growled, pointing to yet another scar, "was because I tried to stop him from beating my mother. This one-"

"Stop it, Christian," Ana cried, thick, fat tears streaming down her face.

"-Was because I pissed myself. This one-"

"Christian!" Ana yelled, covering her ears and shutting her eyes, trying to scrub the picture of Christian being tortured out of her mind.

"-Was because I spilled a bag of frozen peas."

"Stop," she whispered, crying softly.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?!" He roared, grabbing her arms. "I'm opening up to you, Ana. I'm showing you the _real _me! _This _is what you're getting into. I enjoy tying women up and beating them. You want to know to know why I enjoy it? _Why _it feels good to inflict pain on others? Because for once I don't have to focus on the pain inside of me," he snarled.

"Will the next woman be me?" She choked out between her tears.

Christian paused, frowning. It was almost as if the question shocked him - like he didn't know the answer himself. He snatched his shirt off the ground and yanked it back on. "Goodnight, Anastasia," he grumbled, slamming the door behind him.

And just like that, he was gone. And Ana was only left alone with more pain and confusion.

* * *

Thunder cracked outside of her window, the roar of the sky slightly shaking the walls of her apartment. Her alarm hadn't gone off yet, but she guessed that it was almost time to wake up, anyway. Rain pelted hard and fast onto her roof, the sound of the water both soothing and ominous. It was like Mother Nature knew exactly what was going on inside of her head - a storm of confusion, anger, and desire.

Every part of her wanted Christian, but her rational side knew it couldn't lead to anything good. He had baggage - too much baggage. She could understand if his problems were normal; like, having credit card debt, or being a kleptomaniac, but Christian was a sadist, he liked beating people. It helped him not focus on his past abuse and every negative emotion that constantly swirled inside of him. How the hell could Ana deal with that?

She wanted him - and she was confused why she wanted him - but most of all, she was downright angry. Of course it was just her luck that the first man she ever loved was some extremely fucked up person. It's like she secretly thrived on attaching herself to people that needed to be saved. For Christ's sake, her whole job relied on nursing people back to health. She always latched on to people who needed support - and it pissed her off. Why couldn't someone be _her _rock for once? Why couldn't someone swoop in and save _her_?

She sighed, halting her thoughts and focusing on the pitter-patter of the rain on her roof. After their fight last night, she wasn't even sure that Christian wanted anything to do with her. If she was being completely honest, she wasn't sure she wanted anything to do with _him._ Everything about him scared her - and she was a coward. Being tied up didn't sound pleasant, being whipped didn't sound pleasant, and _most of all_, Christian's inability to tell her that he had no desire to do those things with her didn't sound pleasant. She could forget his past, she could give him her whole heart, only if he told her he didn't want her that way.

But he couldn't tell her that because it wouldn't be true. Sometimes she wondered if Christian was seeing her, or if he was just seeing another prospective submissive.

The ringing of her alarm clock caused Ana to jump, her heart accelerating in response. She groaned, not wanting to leave the confines of her bed; but she knew she had a job to do. So far, it was the only thing in her life that she could count on.

* * *

The rain continued all day long. It was almost a blessing for Ana, since rain somehow always had the power to make people groggy. Her patients were easy to subdue, simply because they didn't have the energy to put up a fight. She could even feel the rain affecting her, as she was slower on her feet than usual. Her usual energetic mood was replaced with a more calm one, as she wasn't as chipper with her patients. Of course she wanted to blame the rain, but in the back of her mind she knew it had something to do with what happened last night.

She was slightly hurt when she didn't hear anything from Christian, but she wasn't surprised. He wasn't a person who easily opened up - after revealing what happened to him, he probably didn't want to be anywhere near Ana. It was revealing, but to a man like Christian, it was emasculating. He prided himself on being cool, dominating, and aloof - no one could hurt him; except that wasn't true. And Ana knew that now. So because she did, Christian had to stay away from her. Ana didn't like it, but she understood it.

She said her goodbyes to Kate, who was just as affected as everyone else. She had managed to get through the day without yelling at one of her patients - which was a miracle in itself. She collected her belongings from her station and made her way to the parking garage. She took the elevator to the second level, which housed the reserved spots for nurses and low-level doctors. She yearned for the days when she would gain a higher certification, so she could finally snag her first level car spot.

The sound of her feet against the concrete echoed throughout the garage, eerily reminding her that she was the only person present. The hues of the garage lamps casted sinister shadows on the ground and walls of the garage, which made Ana feel as if she was being followed. Her heart started to pound as she quickened her pace.

_Stop being a baby, Ana, you do this every night!_

But for some reason, this night felt different. The sound of the thunder and rain made everything worse, causing Ana to feel like she had plummeted straight into the scene of a horror movie. She could finally see her car in sight, which instantly made her feel calmer. She scurried toward her small VW beetle, unlocking the car before she reached it in order to ensure a quick entrance. Before she could grasp the door handle, she felt a pair of rough, strong hands on her shoulder. Ana screamed, quickly reaching into her purse to retrieve her can of pepper spray. She turned towards her attacker, spraying the chemical into his eyes.

Only it wasn't an attacker. Just a slightly annoying, cooper-headed asshole.

"Christian?!" Ana screeched, clutching his shoulders to keep him from falling.

Christian groaned in pain, his hands frantically rubbing his eyes. "I got you chocolate," he wheezed, weakly holding up the box towards her.

"What the hell are you doing following me this late at night?" She yelled, concerned and angry. "And stop rubbing your eyes, you're making it worse," she scolded.

"Jesus Christ, this burns!" He shouted, his hands still clutching his eyes.

"Yeah, that's the point. Come on, get in the car, you idiot," she murmured, leading Christian into the passenger seat.

She hopped in the driver's side, a small smirk forming on her face. With Christian's stalkerish ways, he should've known this would happen eventually.

"Why are you out this late?" She asked, backing out of her parking space.

"I needed to see you, so we could talk about what happened."

She groaned. "I'd rather not."

Christian grabbed a water bottle that Ana had in her cup holder, removing the cap and dumping the contents into his eyes. He yelped in slight pain and relief. Ana giggled, watching him frantically try to stop the burning.

"Hey, it's not funny," he ranted, the tone of his voice hinting at his wounded ego.

"Sorry," Ana murmured, trying to hide her smile.

* * *

"Stop touching your face!" Ana demanded, swatting Christian's hands away. She placed an ice bag around his eyes, which were swollen and red. She had managed to wash most of the pepper spray out of his eyes, but his skin was still irritated. She retrieved some aloe vera gel from her medicine cabinet and dabbed some around his eyes. "Let that sit," she said.

"I must admit, Ms. Steele, you're very good at your job," Christian praised, holding on to the ice bag.

"I try," she answered, slightly deflecting his comment.

Ana turned away and walked towards the fridge, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. She sipped slowly, taking in Christian's decrepit form. He sat in one of her kitchen chairs, an ice bag placed against his left eye, his skin red and angry. She sighed - why couldn't this man stop getting himself hurt?

"You know what you did was stupid, right? A phone call would've been suffice."

"Well, I made a bigger impression, don't ya think?" He remarked, giving her a crooked smile.

Ana rolled her eyes, but a small smirk crossed her face. She turned to put her glass in the sink before Christian could see - not that his vision was too great at the moment, anyway.

"Come here," he beckoned, his voice smooth and velvety. Ana's stomach dropped, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. She knew exactly what that tone of voice meant - and she knew that she was _not _going to succumb tonight.

"No," she demanded, not turning to face him. "I know exactly what you want right now and you're _not _getting it."

"So you're saying you don't want it either?" He asked, his voice lascivious. He stood up, placing the ice bag on the kitchen table. He walked towards her, wrapping his hands around her waist. Ana sighed and closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing and rapid heart rate. He slid his hands up her shirt, his warm, rough palm caressing her stomach, then moving up to her chest. She moaned, leaning into his touch. He kissed her neck, softly licking and nipping at her skin. "So you don't want this?" He asked.

She grabbed his hand, removing it from under her shirt, and pushed him away. "No," she answered. She turned around, looking up at him. "Firstly, I'm not having sex with someone with red racoon eyes, and secondly, we have yet to discuss explicitly what our relationship will entail. If it's purely sexual, I don't think I can sign up for that."

Christian sighed. "It's not purely sexual. At first I thought I wanted a new submissive, but I don't - I want _you."_

"And what does that mean?" She asked. "Do you want me at all times of the day, doing all types of things? Or just when I'm naked and writhing underneath you?"

"Well, I like you like that the best-" Ana rolled her eyes, "-but I want more than that. I want to talk, to get to know you, to take you places and show you the finer things. I. Want. You. It's that simple, Ana," he said quietly, pressing his forehead against hers.

"And what about the BDSM? I don't want to try that. Ever."

"Then you don't have to," he responded, "That type of lifestyle relies on consent and trust. If it's not what you want then I'm not going to force you."

"But what if you miss it?" She asked, slightly insecure that she wouldn't be enough for him.

"Stop thinking, Ana," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair.

She sighed, breathing in his scent. She reached up and kissed him, desire igniting throughout her body. Christian lifted her on to the kitchen counter, their hands exploring each other in a way they had grown quite accustomed to. It seemed like his red raccoon eyes wouldn't be bothering her tonight.

Although he had told her what she wanted to hear, her rational side knew that it didn't excuse his baggage. Maybe he wouldn't tie her up and beat her, but could she really involve herself with someone who had such serious emotional problems? Eventually, it would all come crashing down - she just knew it.

* * *

_**Sorry for the late upload, but I hope this chapter was enjoyable. I'm really trying hard to update quicker, but I'm a master procrastinator. Thank you all for reading and supporting this story. It means a lot!**_

_**Xoxo **_


	16. Chapter 16

It had never crossed her mind that her son was not her own blood. Despite their different hair and eye color, complete divergence in personality and mannerism, Grace fooled herself into believing that he had emerged from her own womb. His past didn't matter, nor did it define him. He was her child and her's alone - faults and all. That was simply how strong her love for him was.

"Are you sure you're okay, honey?" She asked, licking her finger and swiping it across a stain that formed on his cheek.

He shrunk away in irritation. "I'm fine, Mom," he groaned. Christian looked around the hospital corridors anxiously, searching for a certain brown-haired lady.

"We miss you," Grace said quietly, hesitantly peering at Christian through her eyelashes. "You haven't been around lately, especially after the accident. We're worried about you."

Christian crossed his arms, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. The last thing he wanted to do was lose his temper with his mother. She was one of the few people he actually cared if they liked him or not.

"I know, but I realize that everyone is busy. I don't want to be a burden," he lied, trying to console his mother. He didn't care about their personal schedules, he simply wanted them away so he could avoid the exact position he was currently placed in - one of sympathy and extreme concern. He didn't want anyone fawning over him, he couldn't bear it.

"Oh, stop it," Grace admonished, waving her hand dismissively. "You could never be a burden - for that you'd actually have to ask for help," she mumbled.

Christian shrugged. He dug his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to another, his eyes scanning the room once again.

Grace frowned, "What are you looking for?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing," he frowned.

She raised an eyebrow. "I like to believe that my children love me enough to randomly show up at my place of work on a Saturday, but I'm not delusional." She crossed her arms and gave Christian 'the look,' an expression that she had perfected since he was a young boy. It loosely translated to 'spill the beans or you're in trouble.'

He sighed. "I just… I'm… here to meet with the guy in charge of the research facility. I made a donation."

"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about your 'donation'." She sucked her teeth. "Christian, sometimes you have to realize that money can't buy you everything."

He had an excruciating urge to roll his eyes, but instead he settled for a nod of his head and a tight-lipped smile. "You're right, Mother," he said, "but unfortunately I have to go. I said I would meet him at 2:45." He bent down to kiss his mother on the cheek, Grace being extra careful not to lean too far into his embrace.

"Okay, dear, be safe… And promise you'll come to our family dinner tomorrow?" She begged.

Christian inwardly grumbled, but decided that the least he could do for his mother was to show up for a measly family dinner. He nodded, promising her that he would be there.

He sauntered down the hallway, turning back the way he came. He stopped to glance at the hospital directory, trying to guess which floor Ana would currently be on. He took the elevator down to the trauma ward, whistling along to the elevator music.

Once the doors departed, he stepped out of the elevator and towards the patient rooms.

"Sir, you can't go back there unless you have a visitor's pass," an attractive blonde woman said to him. She was petite and demure, reminding him of someone he would hire to work in his own office.

He flashed a green visitor's pass in the female's direction, not lessening his stride in the slightest. He continued to glide down the hall, not sure where exactly he would find Ana. As the patient rooms became visible, he slowed down, peeking into each room. Even though he would only glance for a second, he felt like an intruder. Looking at some of the patients and their degenerate conditions made him feel more empty inside than usual. He wondered how Ana could surround herself with so much sorrow all day long.

_Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear._

Immediately after thinking of her, he caught sight of her long, mahogany hair as she lifted a patient into their bed.

"There you go, Mrs. Jenkins," she chirped, fluffing the woman's pillows. "Okay, now open wide," she coached, placing two pills in the woman's mouth. She lifted a cup to the patient's lips as she sipped eagerly. "Is there anything else you need?" She asked Mrs. Jenkins. The frail woman shook her head, smiling adoringly at her. She grabbed Ana's hand and gave it a delicate squeeze, which was as firm as a woman in her state could give. Ana smiled back at her and turned on her heels, wheeling her medicine cart in front of her.

It took her merely two seconds to spot Christian in the doorway, to which she reacted by rolling her eyes. Christian sighed sharply - he hated when she did that. She exited the room, briskly walking past him, the sound of her medical cart wheeling across the floor echoing throughout the hallway. Christian followed behind her.

"So what, I was just a booty call?" He joked lightly, meandering beside Ana to look at her face to face.

"No," she answered, "you're more of a nuisance."

"I don't think that's what you thought the last time we were together."

She frowned, turning the corner and emerging in front of a locked room. "I'd rather not think of that," she mumbled. Ana pulled out a set of keys from her pocket, placing a tiny silver key into the doorknob. "Don't come in here," she commanded, stepping inside.

Surprisingly enough, Christian obliged, placing his hands in his pants pockets while he waited for Ana to finish whatever she was doing. A few moments later she returned, her medicine cart now completely barren. She walked past him again and continued down the long hall.

"Why don't you want to think about it?" He questioned, puzzled. "I mean, it _was _pretty enjoyable-"

"Because I still have reservations we have _yet _to talk about," she interrupted. "We can't just roll around in the bedsheets and pretend they don't exist."

"Damn," Christian grumbled, sucking his teeth and shaking his head. "That was my plan," he teased. "It's been pretty effective these past few days."

Ana stopped walking, turning around to face him. "I'm serious, Christian," she admonished. "And what the hell is wrong with you today? You've never been this… Relaxed."

He shrugged. "I can't be happy to see you?"

"You can; except the Christian Grey I know is usually brooding somewhere in the dark. Are you sick?" She asked, worried.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He shoved his hands back into his pockets. "I'm trying to… Be what you want me to," he grunted, completely exasperated.

Ana shook her head. "I like you the way you are… Minus the weird sexual desires."

"Can you keep your voice down?" Christian snapped, quickly glancing around the hospital to make sure that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. He ran his hand through his hair once again, his mouth set in a hard line. He couldn't believe that Anastasia would carelessly talk about his lifestyle where anyone could hear.

Ana adoringly ran a finger across his mouth, the corners of his lips turned down in a frown. "See? There's the man I love."

Christian grabbed her hand before she pulled away, placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand. She blushed and turned away, continuing her trek down the hall.

"Why do you have to make everything difficult? What we have is simple, Ana." He said.

"Oh, really? Then please, explain."

"We're… Just two people who enjoy the company of one another," he stated with a flourish, feeling proud of himself for explaining the nature of their relationship as simply as possible.

"Hmm," she mused, thinking to herself. "Okay, then no sex," she replied, depositing her cart into a storage room. She turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.

Christian frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. He opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it promptly. Ana raised an eyebrow, slightly amused at how flustered he was. He ran a hand through his hair, "Okay, wait a minute now-"

"What?" She asked, pretending to be daft. "You described our relationship as _platonic. _You don't have sex with your friends, Mr. Grey," she remarked, smirking slightly.

"That's not true," he argued, "ask anyone who's gotten drunk on a Saturday night."

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I do," he acquiesced, "but that doesn't mean our relationship is any more complicated than it has to be."

"Actually, it is. Once you add… Intimacy-" she mumbled quietly, her cheeks flushing bright red, "-into the equation, everything gets complicated. We're not just friends anymore, Christian. And to be honest, I don't think we ever were."

He nodded, placing a finger on his chin thoughtfully. "Fine, you win."

"I don't feel like I have," she said, more to herself than him. "Are we just going to forget about what you told me on Thursday?" She whispered, careful to not divulge any details about their recent conversation. She smiled as one of her coworkers passed them, the woman's eyes trained on Christian a little too hard. He smiled politely before turning back to face Ana.

"Yes, I'd prefer if we did," he said quietly, grabbing Ana's arm and pulling her towards a more secluded spot. "In fact, I wish that conversation never took place. I'm not a fan of dwelling on the past."

"It's not dwelling, Christian," she rebuked, "What happened to you is serious and you can't just ignore-"

"I'm aware it's serious!" He snapped, taking a deep breath and lowering his voice. "Every memory of my fucked up childhood is permanently etched into my brain. Why would I want to relive that more than I have to?" He asked, his voice cold and pained.

Ana looked down, embarrassed. "I just… Thought I could help," she whispered.

He laughed bitterly. "Baby, not even the best doctors in the world could help."

She nervously picked at her nails, struggling with how she should respond. "Okay, so maybe you can forget about it, but I can't. I need closure, Christian. You can't spring that on me and expect me to pretend like it doesn't exist. Everything that happened to you ties into why you are the way you are."

He grimaced. "What way am I?" He asked, sounding offended. "Fucked up? Rude and obnoxious? A terrible person?" He barked. "That's what everyone else thinks; you too now?"

"No!" She exclaimed. "You're not terrible… Just not what I'm used to. Not what anyone is used to, really." Christian shook his head, his jaw tightening. He looked past her, his eyes cold with fury. Her words weren't upsetting him - they were hurting him; and in typical Christian Grey fashion, he masked his pain with anger. "Look, I'm not pressuring you to reveal your whole life story right now," she consoled, "but don't shut me out, okay?"

He pursed his lips. "How is that fair?" He asked, indignant. "How can you expect me to be so forthcoming about this, but then you completely shut my lifestyle down as if it's some unnatural abomination?"

Ana frowned, taken aback. "I never said that. I said I want no part of it."

"That's fine, but you're not even open-minded about it," he argued.

"Oh, so we're back to this? I knew you wanted more," she spat, storming away from him. He ran to catch up with her, matching her stride.

"No, it's not about wanting more, it's about how you can't accept every part of me."

"I do! If I didn't, I wouldn't even be giving you another chance." Christian grabbed Ana's arm and swung her around to face him. She tried to shake him off, but he held on tightly.

"Is everything okay?" Asked an unknown man dressed in scrubs and a lab coat. Christian presumed him to be a doctor.

"It's fine," they both said, not paying much attention to him. He walked off warily, taking quick glances in their direction until he was out of sight.

Christian sighed. "Maybe we should continue this conversation elsewhere," he suggested.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Ana, please," he protested, "you're asking me to be open with you. Can't you do the same?"

She stared at him, her heart and mind conflicted. She couldn't argue that Christian _had _changed since their time apart. He was making an effort… So shouldn't she make one as well? At the same time, even acknowledging Christian's lifestyle made her uncomfortable. It's not like she thought it was an "abomination," it was simply foreign to her. She couldn't grasp it - and isn't it true that people fear what they don't understand?

"Okay," she said, "I'll try."

Christian nodded. "Now was that so hard?"

* * *

She had been reading for so long that the words on the screen had started to mush together. She blinked, closing her eyes hard. After the first straightforward conversation Ana ever had with Christian, she decided to take his advice. It was refreshing to broach her concerns with him and not have it end in a screaming match… Or sex. Although the latter wasn't so bad.

It was daunting to plunge into the world of BDSM, but she decided that if Christian could give an inch, then so could she. When she typed the acronym into her computer search engine, she wasn't sure what would pop up. Explicit pictures of whips and chains? Or women bound and tortured? Blood and gore? Her imagination had conjured up the worst images possible, all for her to realize that she was grossly overreacting. She was partially proven correct, as there _were _images of whips and chains and women tied up… But they looked _content_, almost pleased with their current state.

It confused Ana, who had thought of pain and suffering as synonymous with BDSM. She expected to see horrifying and objectifying images, but instead she was met with pictures of - to put it simply - very kinky sex.

Things started to make even more sense when she read about what BDSM actually entailed. She was extremely wary of clicking on unknown sites in fear of her stumbling into some BDSM porn site, so she stuck with wikipedia. She vividly remembered an excerpt on the page, which made her have an intense moment of clarity:

"**Unlike the usual 'power neutral' relationships and play styles commonly followed by couples, activities and relationships within a BDSM context are often characterized by the participants' taking on complementary, but unequal roles; thus, the idea of informed consent of both the partners becomes essential."**

_Informed consent…_

Those two words rang loudly in her head, like a bell. They screamed at her, "See! He's not as sexually crazed as you think he is!"

Ana's main fear revolved around the fact that Christian liked to hurt people - but she completely ignored the fact that the people he hurt _liked _to feel pain. Within her subconscious, Ana had demonized Christian. And she felt guilty.

Her cellphone keypad chimed as she entered his number, anxiety creeping into her body. This is the first time she had called Christian instead of the other way around; and most of the time she didn't answer his calls, anyway. She wondered how he would react to her sudden outreach to him.

She inhaled quickly as she heard the other end of the phone click. "Anastasia Steele is calling _me?" _Christian teased, "Hell must've frozen over."

"I did what you asked me to," she replied, ignoring his previous comment.

Christian was silent for a moment, causing Ana's stomach to drop. She clutched on to her cellphone tightly, anticipating his reaction. Would he be happy? Aloof? Expectant? She didn't know - and it made her nervous.

"What did you think?" Christian asked, his voice changing tone. He sounded gruffer, his voice more serious than it had been just moments before. Ana desperately wished she could read his mind, to know what he thought of all this.

"I guess maybe I was a little too… Judgmental," she admitted, embarrassed. "I guess what you like to do is a little… Unconventional, but it's not necessarily wrong."

"Do you think it's weird?"

"Yes," Ana admitted, "but what do I know? I've never tried it," she said quietly, staring down at the pattern on her bed quilt. The etches and designs seemed to run on endlessly.

"Do you think you ever would?" He asked, his tone one of curiosity and… Hope? "Not to make you feel obligated or anything," he added quickly, "you know I wouldn't push you to do something you don't want to."

Ana pondered his question long and hard. Could she really do what people like Christian enjoyed? She remembered the images she had seen earlier. Everything looked so… Unfamiliar. And complex. The amount of bondage and toys used seemed almost excessive to her, but it wasn't necessarily scary. Just unconventional. The whole aspect of BDSM reminded her of people who liked to bite directly into ice cream instead of licking it - they enjoyed the same thing, just differently.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"I wasn't sure about vanilla sex, but yet here I am," Christian remarked.

Vanilla sex. It was a term that she was actually familiar with, thanks to the extensive research she had just finished. Ana sighed. "Are you trying to guilt me?"

"No, of course not," he replied. "I'm merely observing how far we've come. Did you think we would end up here that day we met after my accident?"

Ana chuckled. "Oh, gosh. I used to _hate _you."

"Everyone has at least once, baby," he muttered, his voice light and airy.

Ana bit her lip, reminiscing about how the dynamic of their relationship had changed so quickly. It was so sudden she almost got whiplash. She also remembered how vastly Christian had changed, how he had learned to trust her, to show her more emotion than simple callousness and aloofness. It made her feel like she wanted to change too.

"I change my mind," she blurted out.

"About what?" Christian asked, confused.

"I think I'd like to try doing things your way."

* * *

_**I hope you all enjoyed and I thank you so much for your constant feedback. It really helps me to keep the story in the direction I want it to go. **_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**Xoxo**_


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